


In the Eyes of the Moon

by RebelGirl1000



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jon Snow Knows Something, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Underage, Rickon Stark Lives, Romance, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21870145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelGirl1000/pseuds/RebelGirl1000
Summary: Myrcella Baratheon had no idea what fate had in store for her when she met Robb Stark at Winterfell. She had no idea what to expect when she became his hostage two years later, it certainly was not the adventure she finds herself in now. Running for her life, turning her back on her family and falling for a man that should be her enemy yet treats her as a friend.On top of it all, Magic is returning to Westeros, Dragons in the East, a mysterious enemy Beyond the Wall. Ancient powers have awakened and Myrcella and Robb must fight along with unexpected allies to survive
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Myrcella Baratheon/Robb Stark, Tormund Giantsbane/Maege Mormont
Comments: 49
Kudos: 182





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me as all great stories do. During a frantic, sleep-deprived study session for midterms back in October after watching Lily James and Richard Madden in Cinderella. I have no idea why I decided to keep working on it, before this I didn't even know I shipped Robb and Myrcella, yet here it is. I also had absolutely no plans on posting this, there's so much discord in the GoT fandom it is kind of terrifying for prospective authors. Thanks to my amazing friend and fellow nerd Kayla for editing this for me. I miss you girly!!!!

She could remember when she first met Robb Stark. A girl of thirteen not quite flowered, visiting the North with her father and mother and the rest of the royal retinue. Mother had said the Northmen were wild savages and the North itself was a cold and hostile environment. In truth Myrcella found the hostile North beautiful and the Northmen were just the same as all the others in the South. Maybe just a bit hairier.

At the welcoming feast Robb had kissed her hand and led her to the great table at the front of the hall. He was handsome, five years her senior at seventeen, and just coming into his manhood, dark copper hair, chiseled features and eyes as blue as the sky. He was every maid’s dream. For the rest of the visit she had watched him, in the training yard and around Winterfell when he would be in the company of his bastard brother and the Greyjoy ward. The Greyjoy made her uneasy, but the bastard boy, Jon, seemed kind enough. She had overheard that he was going to sail to Essos after the royal party left. She had stopped listening after that as the Greyjoy boy started making the most inappropriate comments. Then Lord Stark’s other son, Bran, fell. Robb wasn’t around after that, helping his lord father and lady mother. Yet as they were preparing for the long journey back to King’s Landing, she approached the young lord and wished him well and that his brother had a swift recovery before giving him a watercolor painting she had done during one of the afternoons when her mother didn’t allow her or Tommen out.

“It’s not my best work my lord. But I hope it brings your brother comfort when he awakens.” The painting was of the sun setting in the Wolfswood. Myrcella wished she had brought her oil paints but alas she had to settle with the traveling kit of watercolors Uncle Jamie had gifted her. Robb had smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes fully but was still there.

“Thank you for your kind gift princess. I will hang it on the wall of Bran’s room.” Myrcella blushed, curtsied and rushed to the wheelhouse.

It was two years before she and Robb Stark would cross paths again.

Contrary to popular belief, and her mother’s wishes, Myrcella was well aware of what was happening in the realm. After all she was a Princess of Houses Baratheon and Lannister. Baratheon in name, Lannister in blood. Even if she tried hard not to be as cruel as her lady mother. One couldn’t survive in Kings Landing without some hardening of the soul. She was a woman now, flowered and grown. The realm was at war with the North, Joffrey, her evil bother executed Ned Stark for treason and held Sansa Stark hostage. Her own uncles, Stannis and Renly Baratheon were also trying to win the Iron Throne. Myrcella knew Stannis had a better claim, she knew what she and her siblings really were, bastards born of incest between their mother and her twin. Jamie was her favorite uncle; he was almost like a father to her growing up. Granted he was her father by blood. But still she still saw Robert as her father too. Out of her and her brothers, Robert had shown her the most attention. He always remembered her name day, and gave her the beautiful gifts he’d had made for her in-person. She had shared many close and private moments with the former king, father-daughter moments that she would always treasure. He may not have been her real father but he had shown her love and attention all the same, Sometimes more than her own mother did, Jamie had also been attentive. He had sat with her when she’d been ill, comforted her when she needed comfort and love. It seemed like the only time Robert and Jamie every agreed on anything was where she was concerned. It was warming and heartbreaking at the same time. It was now that she wished to have either her real father or adopted father or both to protect her.

* * *

Her Uncle Tyrion had arranged a marriage between her and the youngest son of Prince Doran Martell in Dorne. Uncle Tyrion had done it to weed out her mother’s mole on the Small Council, Grand Maester Pycelle. She knew that one day she would have to marry for political gain, and she was prepared to do her duty, but in times of war things never seem to go as planned.

Her ship to Dorne was captured after leaving the port of Braavos. It had been Tyrion’s clever plan to send her first to Braavos then have the ship change its colors before sailing south to Dorne. Her uncle was not as clever as he thought. A Manderley ship had come upon them at night and caught them by surprise. They had taken her, killed everyone on her ship, then set it alight.

Now two moons later, she was being led through the Stark camp in nothing but a thin shift and barefoot with her hands tied. It was meant to degrade her, but she kept her head high. She kept her head high as she was led into Riverrun and presented to the King in the North. Robb Stark had been a boy last time she had seen him. Now he was a man. His hair was a bit longer, he had grown a beard that just dusted his jaw which was set firmly. His light blue eyes were cold as ice, none of the warmth remaining from the boy who had kissed her hand during the feast so long ago. He had filled out as well. Even under the armor and fur cloak Myrcella could tell he had the lean yet muscular body of a warrior. At his feet rested his legendary direwolf Grey Wind. The beast was massive now, just as fierce as his master.

Myrcella stood her ground, in her thin shift, her legs covered with dirt and mud, bleeding profusely from the rocks she had cut her sensitive feet on. Her golden hair lay tangled in her face. She straitened her back and fought to not shiver or let her teeth be heard chattering. The king rose from his chair.

“We found her on a ship outside of Braavos set for Sunspear your Grace. Figured the golden cub would make a fine gift for the Young Wolf. Don’t worry, she’s still a maid. Made sure none of my men took a slice of that sweet pie.” Myrcella bristled glaring at the sailor as he tossed her neckless, a golden pendent with a lioness engraved on it to the king.

They had not defiled her, yet they had stripped her, locked her in a cold damp brig, and only gave her stale moldy bread and the occasional cup of water for weeks on end.

The King in the North now stood less than a foot away. She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. She would not look away, remembering her false father’s house words. Ours is the Fury, right now she had fury. It was all that she had honestly. She didn’t think it was possible, but Robb Stark’s eyes turned even colder, something dangerous flashed in their blue depths, something wild. Behind him the direwolf growled, the rest of the court shifted uneasily. He began to remove his cloak, speaking in a low voice laced with, was that, anger?

“You may not have raped her.” He threw the great fur cloak around her shoulders in one smooth move. Finally shielding her from view. “Yet you have still abused a prisoner, a noble woman. You are no better than her family’s soldiers who rape and pillage the Riverlands.”

The sailors looked around, now fearful. His was a cold and dangerous fury.

“Take these men to the gallows and make an example of them.” The sailors cried and pleaded for mercy as Stark and Tully guards dragged them from the hall. Robb turned to a servant standing at the edge of the room.

“Take the Princess Myrcella to a clean chamber and have a bath drawn. Someone fetch, the healer, Talisa to take a look at her. He turned back to Myrcella. “I will have a hot meal brought to your chambers and when you are well you and I will speak about what position you are in.”

He then pulled his dagger from his belt and cut through the ropes binding her wrists and pressed her necklace into her hand. Once free Myrcella wrapped the cloak closer around her. It was still warm from the King wearing it and smelled of pine and leather.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” She replied quietly.

Later that night wrapped in furs in her new chambers, her hair still damp, from the hot bath and her stomach full for the first time in weeks. Myrcella realized that her hear continued to race, it wasn’t fear or anger. No, it felt like she was back in Winterfell those years ago when Robb had taken her painting. No, she could under no circumstance fall for her family’s enemy. No way, no how.

* * *

She fell for her family’s enemy and she fell hard. Even though she was a prisoner, she was treated like a guest. She was given good comfortable wool dresses to wear that kept her warm in the cooling weather, and she could go anywhere in Riverrun as long as a guard went with her. She mended clothes and went to the Sept with Lady Stark. She could tell Robb’s mother didn’t like her much but still, it was nice.

Robb had even allowed her to visit her Uncle Jamie under his supervision. He wasn’t allowed the freedoms she was, kept in a cage in camp after murdering one of his own cousins and several Stark bannermen in an escape attempt. She had cried when she had seen her father by blood. Making him promise not to make any more trouble, then had hugged him ignoring the filth and whispered

“I love you father.” Before allowing the King in the North to lead her back to the castle. Ignoring the shocked look on Jamie’s face. She had never called him father before, never given away that she knew the truth.

* * *

A week after that a set of paints appeared in her quarters along with a simple note. _I remember you enjoyed painting, perhaps you could paint something for me this time?_ she blushed after reading the note, Robb remembered that she painted. It was a well-known fact that Robb was infatuated with a camp healer, the one that had seen to her when she had arrived, Talisa Maegyr of Volantis. He was just trying to make her feel comfortable, he couldn’t have liked her or anything, after all she was his hostage, the daughter and sister of his sworn enemies.

But she had missed drawing and painting so much. So, she painted a field of flowers, then, a Weirwood, then whatever came to her mind, yet nothing felt worthy for a king.

Her father had been released by Lady Stark, apparently with the promise that he and the Lady Brianne, a warrior woman from Tarth, would return Arya and Sansa Stark to their family. Myrcella told Robb himself that Arya was no longer in the custody of her family. She had disappeared after Lord Stark’s capture and had thought that Robb and Lady Catelyn already knew. Robb was furious, but it wasn’t her it was Lady Catelyn who he directed his anger towards. She was to remain in her chambers or tending to the dying Lord Hoster until Robb decided otherwise.

Shortly after this, Myrcella was walking through Riverrun’s courtyard when she saw Robb training with some of his men. Off to the side Grey Wind sat watching the men with an intelligent interest a person wouldn’t assume an animal was capable of. Robb’s sword rested against the wall next to the giant wolf. Myrcella quickly opened her sketch book and drew the scene. Later that evening she slipped the finished watercolor under the King in the North’s door, ignoring the curious look of the guards and the… interesting sounds coming from the room. As she walked back to her quarters Myrcella felt a heaviness in her heart, she was happy that the King had found someone to love in a time of war. It’s just, part of her wished that it was her instead of the healer from Volantis.

Myrcella buried her feelings, she had seen what jealousy did to people. Seven Hells, her mother had been jealous of a dead woman and all it brought her was grief and spitefulness. Myrcella would not be like Cersei, she wouldn’t. Several weeks had passed since she painted the picture of Grey Wind. The day after Robb had approached her and thanked her for the drawing. She had blushed and said it was nothing. Still that light bubbly feeling filled her, along with a flash of heat to her lower parts. That had been unexpected, but so was Robb’s smile.

Today she was sitting in the little Godswood, it was unusually warm for fall, the citadel had released the White Raven signifying the end of summer a year and a half ago. But the day was so lovely she couldn’t help but take off her boots and stockings and bury her toes in the dirt and grass of the garden. The Godswood wasn’t a real Godswood, the heart tree was an ancient oak instead of a Weirwood. The only Weirwoods in the south grew at the Gods Eye on the Isle of Faces. Myrcella knew it wasn’t as sacred as the Isle or a Godswood in the North, but there was peace here.

Someone cleared their throat causing her to jump. A chuckle followed.

“Forgive me Princess, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Robb Stark said with a crooked grin. Myrcella blushed and tucked her skirts around her knees.

“I beg your forgiveness your Grace, I can go.” She noticed that he was alone, no advisors, no guards, no Talisa. Her guard had been reassigned after the debacle with her uncle when it became clear Myrcella would not try to escape. That, and apparently, she was less valuable to her family than she thought as no responses had come to her ransom that stung. Myrcella tried hard not to dwell on it.

“There’s no need. I wouldn’t mind you staying, honestly I just came here to take a break from the politics.” He said taking a seat a respectful distance from Myrcella. Myrcella nodded, being king was no easy task. Yet somehow Robb Stark made it look easy, but it didn’t fool her she saw the mask crack on occasion revealing the man underneath who is simply trying to protect his family. She decided to change the subject.

“Where is Grey Wind?”

“Hunting. He comes and goes as he pleases. Contrary to what many say he will never be a pet; he is a wild animal and simply my companion. I cannot force him to do anything.” Myrcella nodded.

“I know, I can see it in him. Especially when you look into his eyes.” Robb chucked again and laid back fully crossing his arms under his head staring at the sky.

“Many people don’t willingly look a direwolf in the eye.”

“You do.”

“We.” He paused, “Have a connection.” She didn’t know exactly what that connection was only that it was prolific, honestly, she was surprised more people didn’t sense it.

“Why do you never draw people?” Robb asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“I am horrible at people. I never seem to be able to depict… that one thing that make them, them. All my portraits of people lack soul.” Myrcella trailed off. The two sat in silence.

After a while Myrcella looked up from her sketches and over at Robb, he was still staring at the sky lost in thought.

“The rumor about my uncle and mother is true. My siblings and I are born from their incest.” Why in the bloody seven hells did she just tell him that? He would think her an abomination, a freak. No better than the Targaryen’s and their madness. Robb was silent for a moment.

“I know.” Was his reply. He was quite again, but then he spoke. “My brother Jon is the true heir to the Iron Throne.” Myrcella froze. Wide eyed she looked over at the king next to her.

“Jon told me before he left to visit the Wall before he went to Essos. He’s not really my father’s bastard, apparently my Aunt Lyanna willingly went with Prince Rhaegar and they married in a secret ceremony. After Rhaegar died, my father tracked my aunt to Dorne where she was bleeding out on her birthing bed. She made him swear to protect her newly born son from the wrath of King Robert.” Robb paused again, “My mother used to hate him until Jon got sick with the pox and almost died when we young. Then my father told her the truth. They told Jon the truth when he said he wanted to join the Nights Watch when we were both thirteen. They didn’t tell me, Jon did because he didn’t want to keep it a secret. I didn’t believe him at first, but then I went to my mother and father and they said it was true. They said I should never tell another soul. The Maester at the wall is a Targaryen, Jon wanted to meet him before going to Essos to try and find his aunt and uncle.”

Myrcella gaped at him. Well the Targaryen incest no longer mattered.

“What!” He finally looked over at her seriously. “I thought we were sharing our strangest family secrets.”

The two stared at each other. Then Myrcella burst out laughing and Robb followed. That’s when Myrcella knew for sure, she was in love with the enemy, Seven save her.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Red Wedding happens. Myrcella decides to take charge of her own fate.

Maybe that’s why she did what she did, two years as a hostage of the Starks, her chance to escape and she didn’t take it. When the entire Stark host had moved North to Moat Cailin and the Twins for Edmure Tully’s wedding to one of Lord Frey’s daughters. Myrcella of course, went with them. Afterall, she was their last valuable hostage. Myrcella remembered the day Robb and his council told her that she would be traveling with them. She stepped into the chamber where Robb held his council. No one had noticed her at first, they were discussing something about Rickon Stark, apparently he and Bran Stark were alive! After the Greyjoy invasion of Winterfell it was thought that the boys had been killed. Bran’s whereabouts were unknown, yet somehow the youngest Stark was found with his Wildling nanny Osha and his direwolf, Shaggydog near Castle Black. Apparently, Jon Snow had still been at the Wall, Robb ordered Jon to take Rickon to Essos with him to find Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons. Myrcella wondered if any of Robb’s council knew the truth about Jon Snow. Robb had finally looked over and seen her standing in the corner of the chamber, he had smiled at her and asked her to come forward. Then he told Myrcella that she would leave Riverrun with the rest of them. All talk of Jon Snow and Rickon Stark seemingly forgotten.

Robb was supposed to marry the Frey girl originally but something happened and that fell through, probably because of his affair with Talisa, because Robb announced that he would marry Talisa when they retook Winterfell. But something had changed between the King and the healer. They no longer seemed as close as before, Talisa seemed to stiffen and grimace any time the future wedding was brought up. Talisa also became colder towards her for some strange reason. Myrcella would never claim that she and the healer had been very close, but they had at least been somewhat friendly towards each other. Now Talisa would actively avoid Myrcella, several times Myrcella actually caught Talisa glaring at her.

Myrcella had been uneasy at the wedding from the start. Then she noticed a familiar commander, then the song began, her family’s song. Knowing something was horribly wrong she leapt from her seat next to Robb’s mother screaming that it was a trap.

Apparently, no one had expected her to throw her lot in with the Starks, not even Myrcella herself. Then there was chaos and blood, so much blood. She saw Talisa fall, then Lady Stark was pushing her and several northern lords to Robb. Everything happened so fast, she found herself running behind Greatjon Umber and Dacey Mormont who were dragging a half-conscious Robb between them. There were crossbow bolts in his torso and leg and Lady Catelyn was yelling but then she was just gone. Somehow the motley group got to the river and by sheer luck found a boat.

They jumped in and Myrcella paused. This would be her chance to go home. But if she did, she would once again be an unwilling puppet in this Game of Thrones. It would cost her, her life, just like her father Robert, Lord Stark, all the people at this wedding, and Seven knows who else. So, she did the stupid, selfish thing and helped push the skiff into the river before tumbling into the boat, much to the shock of the Northmen and Rivermen inside.

“Why the hell would you do that? You could have gone home to your family.” Dacey Mormont yelled as the current carried them away from the slaughter at the Twins. Myrcella knew little of the Mormont woman. She was two and twenty, comely, with long brown hair braided down her back and a crass attitude. But she always seemed nice enough.

“I wanted to stay free. If I had returned with the Lannister and Frey soldiers my mother and grandfather would ship me off again just as fast for some stupid political marriage. I am more a prisoner to them than I have ever been with King Robb” She paused trying not to cry,

“And because of this freedom I’ve come to see my family’s faults much more clearly now. They would abuse the guest rite, and who knows what else to say in power. I want none of that.” Myrcella replied before turning to help the unconscious Robb with his wounds.

There was little anyone could do in the boat. Along with herself, Robb, and Dacey, there was the Greatjon and six Stark and Tully men. Robb finally regained conscious and refused any help with the bolts. They tried to stop him, but he pulled the one embedded in his shoulder out, then the one in his side. The Greatjon wrangled him before he could touch the one in his leg. It was too close to the artery to safely remove.

Silence eventually fell on the small boat. Everyone finally processing the massacre at the Twins. Myrcella pulled her knees to her chest, these people had just watched their friends, their comrades, and family be brutally slaughtered. Even the Greatjon was quiet, a rare thing indeed. The boisterous lord was always yelling and bombastic. He fit all the stereotypes of the north she had been told as a child, big and hairy, caring only for drinking and fighting. If the rumors were true, the Greatjon had simply laughed after Greywind bit several of his fingers off. Greywind, the direwolf had been locked up after their arrival at the Twins. Myrcella feared that the majestic wolf’s fate would be as bloody as the rest of the Northern army’s.

Lady Dacey sat next to the Greatjon, tears running freely down her cheeks. Dacey’s mother was at the Twins, killed in the escape. The other soldiers, some looked younger than herself while others were more grizzled and had seen more battles, but they all had the same numb, far unseeing look. Then there was Robb, he was laying on the bottom of the boat, crude bandages made from tearing away strips of her own dress were tied around his wounds. He was slipping in and out of consciousness, even in the dark of night Myrcella could see how pale he was, it worried her. She quietly moved to sit next to the wounded king, using a bit of her skirt she wiped his sweat soaked brow.

“Your Grace,” She whispered. Nothing, “Robb.” She had no right to call him by name, she was still technically the King in the North’s hostage. Finally, he blearily opened his eyes. “Can I do anything?”

“Dead.” Robb croaked, “Mother… Talisa… because of me...” Myrcella took Robb’s cold and clammy hand into her own.

“No. It was the Freys and the Boltons and… and my family. No one could have known they would betray their king.”

“Why, Ella? Why?” Myrcella tried to blink back tears and failed. To see a man, a king she had grown to respect and admire, and maybe, possibly, ok definitely, love. Brought so low and so broken in just one night, it broke her heart. She wiped his brow again.

“Rest… Robb.” Robb Starks eyes slid shut and he faded from consciousness again. Myrcella let out another sob and looked up to see Lady Dacey staring at her with an unreadable expression.

“I’m sorry- “

“Stop. Just stop apologizing for ever damn thing.” Dacey hissed wiping her nose with her sleeve. “Apologizing is making you weak. You can’t be weak right now. We are going to be hunted and Old Gods save us if we are caught. You may get to live, but the rest of us would be strung up faster than you could even dream, girl.” Dacey spoke coldly and sharply. She was right. Myrcella took a breath.

“Alright. What do you need me to do to help?” If the Mormont woman was at all taken aback at Myrcella’s agreement the North woman didn’t let anything show.

“These fucks aren’t capable of anything right now.” Dacey said looking around at their sad party. “There’s two oars, we’ll need to row as far down stream as we can tonight. We can’t stop.” Dacey reached down and picked up the oar and tossed it to Myrcella, who barely managed to catch it. “As soon as day breaks, we’ll need to abandon the river. Set the boat adrift and make for the backwoods of the Riverland’s. We’ll need to stay off all roads and get as far away from the Twins as possible.”

“We can’t go North. Our best bet will be to try and get to the Vale. They’re the only ones who’ve managed to stay neutral in the war.” Myrcella stated.

Dacey looked at her curiously.

“Looks like you do have a brain in that pretty Lannister head of yours’ princess.” Myrcella felt insulted.

“Of course, I have a bloody brain. How do you think I survived living in shithole that’s Kings Landing?” Myrcella retorted, proud of herself for actually swearing.

Dacey grinned at that. The little lioness had some spirit.

“Carefully little lioness.” The she-bear replied. “I may start to actually like you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Myrcella paused. “Call my Myrcella, or Ella if you like.” She couldn’t help but think of how Robb had feverously botched her name. Ella, she liked the sound of it. She’d never had a nickname before. “Also, I have no idea how to use this.” She lifted the oar awkwardly. Dacey rolled her eyes.

“Right then, Ella. Introduction to rowing,” Myrcella listened to Dacey and soon the two women were rowing down the Green Fork, as night moved around them. As dawn painted the eastern horizon the men finally seemed to wake from their stupor.

The Greatjon even laughed at Myrcella’s poor rowing before grabbing the oar and telling her to, “Just sit like the little princess you are.”

Before guffawing the fact, she had actually abandoned her family and the Lannister cause. Robb was still in a bad way but he was awake and aware. He was incredibly pale and clammy. He had lost too much blood. As soon as the sun was visible their little group found a place to pull ashore.

Greatjon grabbed Myrcella by the waist and almost tossed her to shore, she stumbled but managed to stay on her feet. After everyone was out of the boat, she, Dacey and several of the soldiers pushed the boat back into the current, watching as it traveled downstream.

“Let’s move.” Dacey said.

And soon they were making their way through the woods of the Riverlands, using the Green Fork and sun as landmarks. The men took turns helping Robb walk while Myrcella helped Dacey scout and clear paths. The northern woman was incredibly patient with her, answering all her questions and showing her how to read the signs of the forest.

“On Bear Island, there aren’t enough people to worry about women’s and men’s work. You do it all or you’ll end up fucked.” Dacey stated.

Myrcella found herself wanting to meet the other women of Bear Island. Wondering if they were all as tough as Dacey. They didn’t stop until well after midday. They stopped to drink from a small tributary that fed the Green Fork, Dacey had gone off in search of something edible and Myrcella decided she needed to take another look at Robb’s wounds. She was by no means a healer, but she had never squirmed at the sight of blood and it was clear he was suffering and in pain.

“Robb.” Robb looked over at her from where he sat. “I need to look at your wounds.”

“No. It’s fine Myrcella.”

“Please. You were shot three times, let me at least clean and re-wrap them. If they fester, then.”

“Fine just get it over with.” He replied shortly. She tried to ignore the hurt that flashed through her, but it must have shown on her face as Robb quickly looked away.

Myrcella tore several more strips of fabric from her skirt. It was getting a bit short for comfort but was all she could do. Going to the little creek she soaked the improvised bandages before going back to Robb. Kneeling next to him, she untied the wrap on his leg, the fabric was stuck, blood gluing it to the wound. Robb hissed in pain as Myrcella pried it away and tossed the bandage aside. Dark red blood began to slowly leak from the wound. The bolt was still in there. Carefully, she moved the edge of his breeches aside and dabbed at the blood. Cleaning it the best she could, she wrapped it again and silently moved to the wound on his side.

“I’m sorry for being short with you.”

Myrcella looked up from wrapping his shoulder. Their faces were only inches away from each other, she really never realized how incredibly blue his eyes were, comparing them to the blue sky didn’t seem enough anymore, and his lips they looked so very kissable. Like out of one of those erotic novels she had found in her old Septa’s rooms. Wait, he had said something.

“What?” She asked weakly.

“I’ve no right to be angry with you. You saved us, saved me. You are a true friend, you turned back on your family. I can’t imagine how that must have felt.”

Myrcella was at a loss at what she could possibly say. She struggled for a moment, Robb searching her face for some kind of answer.

“You have every right to take your anger out on me. I’m a Lannister, my grandfather and mother must have orchestrated Walder Frey’s and Lord Bolton’s betrayal.”

“But you are not them. You are nothing like Tywin or Cersei.” Then to Myrcella’s utter shock Robb took her hand in his, raised it to his lips and gently kissed it. “You are a good woman Ella.”

Myrcella’s cheeks warmed. Smiling weakly, she gathered the soiled bandages. Mother’s Mercy, he remembered last night.

“I, I need to go throw these in the river or else someone could track us… or something.” She rushed off quickly, trying to ignore the flutters in her stomach. He had just lost his lover and his mother. Robb saw her as a friend and nothing more.

When they started moving again, it was away from the Green Fork and further to the east, they used the little tributary creek as their guide as it most likely originated somewhere in the Vale. They crossed the Kingsroad just after sundown and kept going late into the night. Finally, when Myrcella thought her feet were about to finally just fall off Dacey and the Greatjon had them stop.

“Right, you shits. Rest up I’ve got first watch!” The Lord of Last Hearth bellowed. He pointed at a scrawny soldier, the youngest in their company. “You boy!” The boy looked about ready to piss himself.

“Petey, milord.”

“Petey? What kind of shite name is that!” Poor Petey shrugged weakly. “Whatever. You’ve got watch after!”

The Greatjon was quite the character. Because of how close to the Kingsroad they were there was no fire all they had to eat were some berries and edible moss Dacey and the older Riverland soldier had managed to collect. Dacey also set a snare in hopes of catching something during the night. Myrcella was exhausted, cold, and hungry, but as soon as she lay down next to Robb, just to keep an eye on his wounds, she told herself, she quickly passed out. Myrcella had no idea how long she slept, only it was not long enough, groggily she awoke to the distinct bellows of Greatjon Umber. Sitting up she rubbed the grit from her eyes. Looking around it was clear that it was just barely dawn.

“How the fuck could they just walk away!” Myrcella looked around confused, Greatjon was yelling at the skinny northern boy, Petey. It was then she realized two of the Riverland soldiers were gone. The only one left was the man who had found the moss to eat. He and the two other northern soldiers sat chewing on more moss watching the lord tear the boy soldier a new one.

“They, they said that they had the next watch….” Petey argued weakly.

“I should cut off your balls and stuff them up your sorry-

“Lord Umber!” Robb raised his voice, cutting off the older lord. Robb pulled himself up, carefully keeping most of his weight off his injured leg.

“Leave the lad be. He couldn’t have known those two fools would turn craven.”

“Your Grace.”

“Enough. They are responsible for their own way. It’s not any of our concern anymore. We must keep moving to the Vale.” Lord Umber shot the boy one last nasty look and then they were moving yet again.

Petey, trying to redeem himself to Lord Umber volunteered to help Robb walk. It was slow going, everyone was exhausted but kept moving for fear of being caught. Besides Petey, who apparently grew up on a farm near Winterfell, Myrcella learned that the other Northern soldiers were named Jay and Toby, brothers who had grown up in Torrhen’s Square. The remaining Riverland soldier was an old veteran who had fought back in Robert’s Rebellion. He was called Griffin and was a woodsman when not soldiering. When Myrcella finally got the courage to ask what made them take up arms. The four all said it was for money. None of them cared who sat on the Iron Throne, as long as they had food and a roof over their heads.

“Then why are you still here?”

“Because lass, now it’s personal.” Jay, the younger brother said.

“Breaking the guest rite ain’t right.” Toby continued. “Besides, even if we be soldiering for money don’t mean we can’t also be loyal.”

Myrcella looked back to where Petey struggled to keep Robb walking. The boy was certainly trying to prove his loyalty in any way possible, Robb looked about ready to throttle him.

“The Young Wolf, he’s something I haven’t seen since the Rebellion.” Mumbled Griffin. “Could be a great leader one day. Just like how the Dragon Prince could have been great.”

“I think you are right ser.” Myrcella replied.

“Ain’t no sers here Princess.”

“I don’t know. You gentlemen seem to be more chivalrous than any of the knights back in Kings Landing. She could swear all three of these burly and battle-hardened soldiers blushed from head to toe.

* * *

The group fell into an easy pattern, walk, rest, walk some more, stop late at night, start again at the break of dawn. Myrcella was taking her turn helping Robb walk, Dacey was ahead skinning a rabbit she had caught earlier while she walked. The Greatjon was telling some story about Wildlings gesturing wildly and of course, loudly. The soldiers listened to the lord with rapt attention. Dacey looked back at Myrcella and Robb and rolled her eyes at the Greatjon’s outlandish tale. It was strangely peaceful, like they were not in fact, running for their very lives.

“Robb, are you doing ok? I’m sure we can rest soon.”

“No, I’m fine Ella.” Things had become very informal between the two of them, however the rest still referred to Robb as King Robb or Your Grace. Myrcella had tried to tell them they did not have to be formal with her. Sometimes they called her Myrcella, but mostly they called her Princess.

The soldiers wouldn’t even consider calling her by her new nickname even if she had said it was perfectly fine. She was still a noble, they had said. It was just not right in there minds to be so informal. Myrcella was afraid to admit that she was enjoying the comradery and company of the group.

“Stop.” It was Griffin, he was leading the group. Everyone froze, Myrcella struggled to adjust her hold on Robb. “Lady Dacey, Lord Umber. Up ahead, smells of smoke.” Dacey handed the half-skinned rabbit to Petey.

“Could be a hamlet or village, could just be a camp.” Myrcella helped Robb up to the front. Dacey pulled her axe from her belt.

“Your Grace, I’ll go ahead and see if we are dealing with friend or foe.”

“Go Dacey, but be careful.” Dacey nodded and swiftly disappeared into the woods.

Myrcella could smell the smoke now, along with something else, she couldn’t place it, but it made the hairs on her neck stand up.

“I don’t like this, Your Grace.” Umber grumbled. “Somethin ain’t right.”

Myrcella wrung her hands waiting for Dacey to return. Something moved in the forests the soldiers drew their swords but relaxed as Dacey reappeared. Her face was ashen, and she returned she placed her axe back on her belt.

“It’s a farmer’s hamlet, we won’t have to worry about the people.”

“Why?” Myrcella asked hesitantly, she feared that she already knew the answer.

“They’re all dead.”

* * *

There were several cottages all close together smoke billowed from the burned-out husk of one. The people were spread out all over, flies buzzed lazily from corpse to corpse. Myrcella gagged, finally remembering the smell. Joffrey loved forcing her and Tommen to go on the Traitor’s Walk and look at the rotting heads of petty criminals. It looked like the people were left where they were cut down, tables were overturned, fences broken, one cottage had a little garden in the front, it had been trampled.

“Whoever did this is long gone. Bodies are days old.”

“Who could have done this?”

“I don’t know. If it had been bandits then they would have taken everything then burned it all down, not just the one shack.”

“The Mountain.” Myrcella turned to Robb.

“What?” She asked.

“This is the Mountain’s work. I recognize it from the villages around Harrenhal.” Myrcella shivered. The Mountain, Gregor Clegane terrified her, he was infamous, it didn’t help that his brother had been Joffrey’s sworn sword.

“What could the Mountain be doing this far north?” Dacey asked.

“Looking for us. We need to be quick, gather as much supplies as we can.” Robb commanded.

“What about the bodies?” Myrcella asked.

“We have to leave them. This is war, Myrcella. We don’t have time for small mercies if your grandfather’s mad dog is after us.” Myrcella nodded and helped Robb sit and made sure he was as comfortable as can be.

It was clear he was getting irritated, so she was quick to make herself scarce. Robb’s temper was getting shorter by the day, it made sense with all that had happened in the past several weeks, but she would rather not be the reason behind it. Dacey emerged from one of the houses and whistled at her. Myrcella ran over and followed her into the little home. Inside there was another body lying across a table, it was mutilated beyond recognition but had once obviously been a woman. A bundle near a wall proved to be what was once a young child. The house was trashed but Dacey was digging through a trunk before standing and tossing a bundle at her. Myrcella couldn’t take her eyes of the bodies though and the bundle which proved to be a pair of trousers and shirt fell to the dirt floor. Dacey sighed and physically turned Myrcella away from the macabre scene and led her the little back room. Once inside, Myrcella let out a sob.

“Why?” She cried. “What could these poor people have done to deserve such a horrible fate?” Dacey silently wrapped her arms around Myrcella.

“Sometimes… there’s just no reason besides the cruelty of men.” She replied softly while letting Myrcella cry.

After Myrcella’s tears ran dry. She sat on the little trundle bed and wiped her face with her filthy sleeve. Dacey sat next to her.

“I want to say that eventually you become numb to it, but that would be a lie.” Dacey said, handing Myrcella the clothes again.

“It’s just so…” Myrcella couldn’t finish.

“I know.” The two women sat in silence for another moment. “Change into those clothes, it will be easier to move in than what’s left of your dress.”

“I’ve never worn pants before.” Myrcella said shyly.

“Well there’s a first time for everything, Princess.” Dacey said in a teasing tone. Myrcella couldn’t help but smile before undoing the laces of her dress.

The pants were a bit too long in the leg, so Dacey took her knife to the ends to shorten the leg. The shirt was baggy enough that Myrcella improvised by putting her corset on over the shirt to keep it in place. Dacey had found a jerkin and cloak for her to use as well. When Myrcella finished lacing up the jerkin she tied her hair up out of her face using a scarf like she had seen scullery maids do. It was strange to wear pants, she hesitantly kicked out testing the freedom that one never had when wearing skirts and petticoats.

Dacey stepped out of the cottage for a moment while Myrcella continued to search for useful supplies. There wasn’t much, so she took the sheet off the bed and tore it into strips to make more bandages for Robb’s wounds, hanging on the back of the door of the backroom was a canvas satchel, she took it and threw the strap over her shoulder before stuffing the shreds of sheet inside. Before leaving the small room, she grabbed the blankets on the bed as well. It was cold at night and a blanket would be nice. Dacey stepped back into the house holding what looked to be a bundle of dried leaves in one hand and a small knife in the other. She handed Myrcella the knife,

“Tuck that in your belt or boot.” Myrcella quickly secured the knife in her belt. Dacey set the leaves in one corner and took out a flint, striking it flames soon burst from the plants. She stood and turned to Myrcella.

“A slow burn. Gives us time to get away from here and gives them.” She nodded at the body on the table, “A bit of decency.”

Myrcella nodded then followed Dacey out as the flames from the little fire steadily grew and began to take hold in the cottage. The men were all waiting at the edge of the cottages. They had all found new clothes, along with dried foods that were being prepared for winter, water and wine skins, blankets, and packs. They had even found a walking stick for Robb and an old bow and quiver for hunting. No one spoke as they set off again. Myrcella looked over at Robb and couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes and the pallor of his skin, or how he clenched his jaw every time he took a step with his bad leg.

* * *

Travelling became somewhat easier after finding the massacred hamlet, it was still horrible to find, and the sight had haunted her dreams for weeks after. No matter how exhausted Myrcella was at the end of the day she still found herself waking during the night in cold sweats. But she had more important things to worry about. Namely, Robb Stark, his wounds were getting worse. He tried to hide it, but it was obvious the wounds from the wedding would just not heal and Seven help anyone who brought them up.

Robb Stark was by far one of the most stubborn, pig headed fools she had ever met. They were in the Vale now, the Mountains of the Moon soaring into the sky in the distance. Myrcella was walking next to young Petey, who was telling her about his mother and sisters back in the North when it finally happened.

Robb collapsed. Myrcella was at his side in an instant. He was white as a sheet and burning hot to the touch. She pulled out her little knife and cut away at his trousers above the wound in his leg. Peeling back the bandages, Myrcella exposed the wound to the air for the first time in days, black blood oozed from the wound, the skin around it was green and angry red lines were spreading from the wound up and down his leg, it stank of rot.

Myrcella swallowed the bile that threatened to rise. The wound had festered. She quickly checked the ones in his side and shoulder, finding them in similar states to the one in his leg. He hadn’t said anything, pushing on with the rest of them. But it was obvious now, Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, King in the North was dying.

Myrcella sat back, fear was welling within her. She had no idea what to do. Looking around desperately at the others seeing if anyone would do something, anything. They all stood by silent. Of course, this had to be when the Mountain’s hounds finally found them.

Griffin was quick to dispatch them by shooting them with an arrow to the eye each. Yells of men could be heard in the distance. Jay and Toby grabbed Robb and the rest took off running. Myrcella crashed through the woods behind Dacey, the sounds of the hounds and men hunting them were getting closer. Myrcella’s lungs started to burn and she finally risked a look behind her shoulder just as a massive horse broke through the trees. The unmistakable form of the Mountain atop it.

Myrcella pushed herself to move faster, she thanked the seven for pants in that moment then cursed herself for being raised as a bloody princess who couldn’t run any faster. When it seemed like the Mountain and his men would finally catch them all the sounds of pursuit vanished. Actually, the forest around them fell completely silent. Only the sounds of their exhausted and heavy breathing filled the air.

“What happened?” Dacey asked. “Where did they all go?”

“Fuck if I know.” The Greatjon grumbled.

Myrcella looked around, everything looked the same, yet their pursuers were gone. Myrcella began to feel uneasy, there was something strange about this place.

“Clearing up ahead. Might as well see what’s about.” Greatjon stated before walking off. Myrcella turned to Griffin, who still had the bow drawn and notched.

“Is that a good idea?” The old soldier shrugged.

“Something’ queer about this place. Whatever tis’ its better than dealin with the likes of the Mountain.” Myrcella followed behind Griffin and the Greatjon, stepping into the clearing she felt the breath leave her. Standing in the clearing was a large stone circle and next to it was a ramshackle cottage.

The others began debating on what should be done next. Who knew when the Mountain and his men could reappear. Myrcella thought about going up to the shack, maybe whoever lived there was home, after all there was smoke coming from the hole in the roof. Before Myrcella could make any sort of decision the door slammed open and a woman in a ragged dress with a scarf wrapped around her shoulder hobbled out. Her hair was a long-tangled mess, beads of all shapes and sizes looked to be braided all through the tangled mass, several necklaces and pendants that looked to be made of bones. Kohl was smeared over her eyes which narrowed at the sight of the ragtag group before her home.

“Who the fuck are you lot?” She rasped angrily. Myrcella stepped forward, standing straight and tall just like the princess she once was.

“We’re travelers. Our friend is hurt, dying. He needs help.” Myrcella glanced back at Toby and Jay who were still holding Robb up between them. “Please.” Myrcella practically begged turning back the strange woman. “He doesn’t deserve to die.” The woman stared at the strange group, her eyes flitting from person to person. There was something about them, they were old and young at the same time, possessing of knowledge that reached beyond the bounds of Westeros.

“You are lucky Little Doe. I know healing arts and more. But it will cost much if you want me to look at that boy.” The woman said coldly pointing a long-knurled finger in Robb’s direction. Myrcella didn’t even hesitate, she rushed towards the woman and pulled the chain and pendent her mother had given her so long ago from her neck. Holding out the golden lion, Myrcella met the strange woman’s gaze.

“This is solid gold. It’s valuable, please, will it be enough to save him?” The woman stared for a moment at the necklace hanging from Myrcella’s fist. Quick as lighting the woman snatched the necklace.

“Bring him inside I’ll take a look.” Myrcella looked back at the others and nodded. Toby and Jay moved forward. The woman held up her hand, “Only you, and the lord and lady and king.” She stated staring directly at Myrcella. Myrcella felt the color drain from her face. Whoever this woman was. She knew who they were.

“Who are you?” Dacey asked, moving to take Robb from Toby and Jay, Greatjon copying her. The woman gave them all one more appraising look.

“Call me Maggy the Frog.” She stated coolly before turning and stalking back to the hut.

With little choice Myrcella followed after her, Dacey and Greatjon dragging Robb with them.

Inside the shack was surprisingly spacious compared to the outside of the cottage. Furs, herbs, and other strange bits and bobs hung from the rafters. Baskets filled with strange looking things were piled in the corner, Myrcella swore that a human skull sat front and center on a lopsided table but when she turned back all that was there was a large gourd. A fire roared at the center of the room a pot of something hung above the flames whatever was inside boiled happily. Maggy stopped to stir the pot for a moment before collapsing into a large chair decorated with strange runes and bird skulls.

“Put the boy on the furs.” She stated glaring at the three nobles. Dacey and Greatjon reluctantly did as instructed. Myrcella knelt down next to Robb when they had him on the furs. His breathing was shallow and he was so hot, sweat dotted his brow and all the color was gone from him.

“You’re a fucking woods witch.” That was the Greatjon. He stood, glaring at the woman, Maggy. She shrugged.

“That’s what you Andals call me. Others call me Maegi, sorceress, necromancer, priestess, enchantress take your damn pick.” The Greatjon turned bright red and started cursing the witch. Calling a Northman, a man descended from the First Men an Andal was quite the insult to the proud northerner.

“Listen here you cunt!” The lord of Last Hearth started spewing so many explicatives it made her head spin. Say what they will about Greatjon Umber, the northern lord could create some incredible and offensive insults. Maggy the Frog stared at the Northman unimpressed by his outburst. Dacey finally had enough and kicked the giant man in the shin, finally shutting him up. Maggy rolled her eyes and stood.

“I’ll take a look at your king now.” Myrcella stood and moved back to Dacey. She watched carefully as Maggy began to examine Robb’s prone form. It seemed to take an eternity, Myrcella unconsciously reached and took Dacey’s hand in her own. The Mormont woman squeezed Myrcella’s hand, Myrcella was quick to return the gesture. The Greatjon paced back and forth in the limited space still muttering and cursing.

After what felt like an age the woods witch stood.

“Death has their fingers already buried in the boy’s soul. There is nothing that can be done to save him, he’ll be gone by the rise of the sun tomorrow.”

No. No this couldn’t be it. Myrcella felt her heart stop in her chest. Robb couldn’t die, they had come so far. It wasn’t right.

“There must be something you can do.” That was Dacey.

“Robb does not deserve this fate. Please, he can’t die.” Myrcella almost shouted.

“All men must die Myrcella Lannister of House Baratheon.” Maggy stated. “And yes. I know who each of you are. I’m a fucking witch, remember.” Maggy growled before cocking her head and walking around the little group, playing with one of her bone necklaces. “Perhaps I should have been a bit clearer; there are no mortal means of saving Robb Stark.” The flames in the hearth seemed to darken and dance around wildly. Goosebumps rose on the back of Myrcella’s neck.

“What do you mean?” Maggy chuckled darkly.

“The signs are there.” She down at Robb’s prone form. “Magic is returning to this world. Surely you lot remember the comet that danced across the sky?” Maggy didn’t bother waiting for a response. “Dragons have been reborn in the East. And to the North…” Maggy shivered.

“We are entering into a new age, fueled by powers that last existed thousands of years ago. I can save Robb Stark, this Young Wolf. It will require dark magic, blood magic. That magic always comes with a price. A price that cannot be paid in silver or gold, only by giving a life can a life be saved.” Myrcella stepped up to the Woods Witch.

“If a life must be given then I offer my own.” Everyone looked at Myrcella, shocked, even the witch. “My family is the reason for all of this. They are Robb’s enemies, they consorted with the Freys and Boltons for the betrayal at the Twins. My brother ordered the execution of Robb’s father. It is only right that my life be taken to repay the debt.” Maggy stepped closer to Myrcella, studying her carefully. Myrcella couldn’t help but shift under the heated gaze of the other woman.

“No.” Maggy finally stated. “As it happens a life has already been given. But I will still require further payment from the three of you.” Myrcella looked back at Lord Umber and Dacey. An unspoken conversation seemed to pass between them. Robb would pay any price to protect his men, so they would do the same for him.

“Whatever the price is we will each pay our part.” Dacey stated.

“Agreed.” Greatjon grumbled. Myrcella merely nodded her own consent. Maggy the

Frog grinned.

“Excellent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! This is going to be a very supernatural AU. What's gonna happen next? Blood magic is nasty stuff, do our heros know what they are doing? Absolutely not!


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a PSA about the dangers of Blood Magic :)
> 
> Also, bit of a trigger warning, there is some graphic stuff in this chapter.

Myrcella followed the Greatjon and Dacey out of Maggy the Frog’s shack. The witch had all but pushed them from the shack, stating she needed to prepare for whatever it was she was going to do to Robb. Looking back at the shack Myrcella realized that it was somehow bigger on the inside than on the outside. She tried not to dwell on the strange revelation. Dacey was informing the others of what had transpired and of how the woods witch agreed to help Robb.

“Forgive me milady.” Griffin stated. “This is a bad idea. There are stories of women like this one. It’s dangerous to trust her.”

“We ain’t got a choice.” Greatjon muttered “Either we trust the bitch or we let his Grace die.”

“What of payment? What’s the price she’s askin?” Dacey spoke next,

“We do not know. She already took Myrcella’s necklace, she’s only asking something of the three of us. You all need not worry about paying any sort of debt to the witch.”

“But what is the price she’s asking?” That was Jay.

“I think we’re about to find out.” The group turned, Maggy had silently emerged from the shack and stood waiting patiently.

“It’s time to begin.” She stated before turning and going back into the shack that was bigger on the inside. Myrcella took a breath and followed the mysterious witch, Greatjon and Dacey right behind her.

Maggy the Frog stood next to the hearth in the shack, twirling a long, sharp knife in her hands, Myrcella couldn’t help but notice the strange ripples in the metal of the blade. It almost looked like Valyrian steel. After Ned Stark’s execution Joffrey had taken House Stark’s ancestral sword, a massive Valyrian steel great sword and paraded around court with it. The first spoil of war, he had said. Valyrian steel was incredibly rare, how the witch came to own a Valyrian steel dagger, Myrcella didn’t really want to know.

“Right then. Who’s first?” Maggy asked with a smirk looking at the trio before her. Her eyes landed on Myrcella.

“You little lioness.” Myrcella stepped forward. Maggy began to walk slowly around her, examining her with a critical eye. “Did you know I met your mother little Doe?” Myrcella frowned.

“My mother?”

“Aye, Cersei Lannister. Many years ago, that little bitch demanded I read her fortune.” A faraway look overtook Maggy. “ _Queen you shall be… until there comes another, younger and more beautiful , to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.”_ She finally looked back at Myrcella. “Your mother paid me in a drop of blood from her finger. I wonder… will yours be as bitter and vile as hers.”

“I, I don’t know.” Myrcella stammered, confused as to how her mother could have possibly met this witch. Maggy smirked.

“Then blood is the price you must pay.” Myrcella hesitantly held out her hand, thinking that the witch simply meant to prick her finger. Instead Maggy grabbed her wrist in an iron like grasp, pulling Myrcella’s arm forward over the fire, she dug the knife into Myrcella’s wrist cutting deeply across, pain shot up Myrcella’s arm and instinctively she tried to free her wrist, but the witch held fast. Crimson blood spurted from the wound dripping from her wrist into the fire below. Finally, Maggy pulled the knife away, blood still flowing from the wound, too much blood. Myrcella felt woozy, she tore her gaze from the wound just in time to see Maggy lick the blood-soaked knife. The witch hummed and looked back at Myrcella, her eyes glowing.

“Interesting. Sweet-blooded Child of the Golden Lions, I see you in the song.” The glow left Maggy’s eyes and Myrcella stumbled back, clutching her wounded wrist with her right hand, trying to stop the blood flow. Two large hands grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her from collapsing. Greatjon pulled her aside, away from the witch. But Maggy’s attention was now on Dacey. Maggy reached out and grabbed a strand of Dacey’s hair. “Such beautiful hair. That will be your price she-bear.”

“Wha- before Dacey even spoke, Maggie brought the still bloody knife up and cut the strand she held, that lock of hair was then thrown unceremoniously into the fire. She then forced Dacey onto her knees and roughly cut away the long brown tresses, throwing them into the fire. The room swam around Myrcella, her heart hammering in her chest, blood continued to drip down her wrist no matter how tightly she clutched it. In a matter of moments, Dacey’s beautiful thick hair was completely gone. Maggy had shorn it almost to Dacey’s scalp, which was bleeding in several places from the witch’s brutal cutting. The acrid scent of burnt hair began to fill the space. Myrcella looked down at Robb’s prone form, he was so pale, he already looked dead, darkness danced at the edges of Myrcella’s vision. It was getting harder to breath, the smoke from the fire was completely filling the shack. Next to her Greatjon started to hack and cough. Maggy the Frog cackled. “And you oh mighty Greatjon Umber. I already knew your price as soon as we met. Your price is your damned voice!” The lord grabbed and clawed at his throat, wide-eyed. He continued to cough violently; blood began to drip from the corners of his mouth down into his beard. That terrifying glow returned Maggy the Frog’s eyes. Her voice echoed loudly around them. “The Prices have been paid. The Young Wolf will be saved, do not enter here till the dawn comes.” Something pushed Myrcella then she was outside. The door to the hut slammed shut and echoed around the clearing. Night had fallen. How long had they been in there? It had barely been midday. The world spun; people were talking. What were they saying? Someone was pulling her away from the shack, Myrcella looked back, there were shadows dancing along its walls, they almost looked like people and there were so many voices. But they spoke in no language she knew. But then there was someone speaking she could understand. Myrcella felt sick, Griffin the Woodsman’s face swam into view. Was he yelling at her? Why was he yelling? Myrcella felt like she was floating, was Griffin shaking her? That was kind of rude. Myrcella tried to pull away, to speak but her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. Looking down she saw the blood flowing down her wrist. It looked so dark and red. The world was spinning so much, Myrcella looked up at the sky, it was so dark. Where were the stars? The moon? Was someone carrying her? Myrcella tried to look around, the strange moving human, shadow still danced around Maggy the Frog’s shack. Myrcella heard the blood racing in her ears and down her arm. And oh, suddenly she was no longer in the air, now she was on the ground by a campfire. The flames were nice, they would keep the shadow people away. Blackness was overtaking her, what had she gotten herself into? With that last thought, Myrcella went limp and let the blackness take her.

The first thing Myrcella was aware of was the throbbing pain in her left arm. The next was how absolutely weak and exhausted she felt. Slowly, Myrcella opened her eyes. She was lying on her back staring up at the night sky, someone was holding her arm, she turned her head, fighting the dizziness that threatened to consume her once again. Toby was holding her arm out next to a roaring campfire. Griffin was sat next to him holding a red-hot dagger, which he then pressed against her wounded wrist. Burning pain coursed through her arm. Myrcella cried out and tried to pull away, but someone was holding her down. The scent of her burned flesh filled Myrcella’s nostrils and she gagged.

“Just another minute Princess.” Jay said. He was the one holding her down. Finally, Griffin removed the knife. The pain began to lessen, and Jay helped Myrcella to sit up. The dizziness was back with a vengeance. Propping Myrcella against a rock, Jay stepped away then returned with a water skin. He helped Myrcella take a drink.

“What happened?” Myrcella finally managed to croak. Griffin knelt down next to her, holding a rolled-up bandage he must have grabbed from her bag.

“The witch slit your wrist. You were losing too much blood; we burned the wound closed.” He said bluntly. Myrcella nodded weakly.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“T’was nothin.” Griffin said gruffly.

“Dacey and the Greatjon?”

“The lad’s watchin them. They’re in a bad way but nothing compared to you Princess.”

“Call me Myrcella.”

“Aye, Myrcella. I’ll be needin to wrap that wrist then you can rest some more.” Myrcella nodded and Griffin carefully took her wounded wrist and carefully wrapped it. Myrcella’s eyes wandered over to Maggy the Frog’s shack. In the pre-dawn light, the strange shadows continued to dance around the shack. A sliver of fear crept into Myrcella as she watched them dance. Griffin followed her gaze. Shuddering at the sight of the shadows.

“Been like that all night. When I was a lad there were tales about woods witches trickin’ travelers, eatin children, and the like.” The older man gently took Myrcella’s chin and turned her away from the shack. “There were also tales about em’ savin heroes and passin on wisdom to kings.” He said kindly. Myrcella took her wrapped wrist and cradled it to her chest. Myrcella hope Maggy the Frog was the latter type of witch instead of the former. But something told her, that whatever Maggy the Frog was; it was probably nothing from the stories told to children.

Dacey was the next awake. The Mormont woman reached up and touched her shorn head and promptly burst into tears. Myrcella tried to move to comfort Dacey, but she was still too weak from the blood loss. The men looked uncomfortable at the woman’s tears, they tried to console her saying that it would grow back. Dacey looked ready to throttle Jay when he had said that. Something told Myrcella that Dacey’s hair would never grow. Dacey somehow knew it too. Petey finally approached Dacey.

“I think you still look mighty pretty milady.” He said kindly. Dacey gave him a weak and tearful smile. Petey was quite a sweet boy, he reminded Myrcella of her younger brother, Tommen. What was he doing now? How much had he grown since she had last seen her darling little brother? She was brought out of her memories by Dacey moving next to her.

“You alright?” Dacey had stopped crying, but her eyes remained red and damp and her voice was still a bit raw.

“No.” Myrcella said. “I’m not alright.” She ran her fingers over the bandages on her left wrist. “What happened in there…” Myrcella trailed off.

“Was terrifying.” Dacey finished.

“And we will carry the scars for the rest of our lives.” Myrcella held up her wrist and grimaced. “Literally.”

The sun was finally rising and the dancing shadows began to fade as dawn graced the witch’s clearing with its’ warm rays. Greatjon was the last to awaken and had been the hardest to calm down. It took Griffin, Jay, Toby, Petey, and Dacey to stop the giant lord from storming into the witch’s home and killing her. Myrcella still couldn’t move without being overcome by weakness. She had to watch the others physically restrain the massive lord, it was disturbing to see him open his mouth again and again with no sounds coming out. He was permanently muted by Maggie the Frog’s spitefulness. Finally, he collapsed, clearly defeated, next to her at the campfire.

Morning was well and truly arrived when the door to the shack once again slammed open and Maggy stepped out. Looking indifferently at the group, she carried a caldron in one hand and a stack of bowls in the other. Everyone watched silently as the witch approached them, she didn’t seem to care at her chilly reception nor did she seem inclined to inform them of Robb’s condition. Setting the caldron down Maggy wordlessly began to ladle out a delicious smelling soup that had Myrcella’s stomach growling. Finally, the witch spoke.

“The Young Wolf will live.” She stated calmly, holding out a bowl to Dacey. Dacey made no move to take the bowl from her. “Seven hells, Bear I said the only way I could save your king was blood magic. What did you think? That it would be pleasant? Blood magic is dark and raw, the price is always steep and painful. Now take the damn soup.” Dacey finally took the bowl and slowly lifted it to her lips, she took a hesitant sip before drinking down another mouthful. Myrcella took a bowl next and didn’t even hesitate she slurped up the contents of the bowl. The hearty soup was warm and so very filling. The others soon were all eating as well, even the Greatjon. Maggy stood and wiped her hands on her dress. “It will take several days for your king to awaken. Even then the journey is far from over. With that she spun and walked back to the shack. Myrcella couldn’t help but wonder at Maggy’s cryptic parting words. Then there was also what the witch had told her about her mother and her fortune. But at this point, Myrcella couldn’t bring herself to care too much. Robb was going to live, things were finally starting to look up. 

* * *

Myrcella sat dutifully next to Robb’s pallet, he had been unconscious for almost three days. She couldn’t help but think back to that night, the shadows that danced, the whispers, Maggy the Frog said that Magic was sewing its seeds back into the world of the living. Magic that had apparently saved Robb, but Myrcella worried at the cost. Her blood, Dacey’s hair, the Greatjon’s voice, and a life. But who’s life had paid for Robb to live? She was willing to offer her own to atone for her family’s crimes. But Maggy had said that the life was already taken. By the Old Gods and the New she was so confused. Dacey and the Greatjon stepped into the shack, closing the door behind them.

“Any change?” Dacey asked.

“None.” Myrcella said shaking her head. “He’s still warm.”

Dacey reached down and laid the back of her hand across Robb’s forehead.

“That won’t change she-bear.” Myrcella jumped, she had forgotten that the witch was still in the shack. “Don’t fret little girly. The Wolf will awaken soon.” Maggy the Frog smirked at Myrcella and her skin began to crawl.

A gasp came from across from her, Dacey was wide eyed with her hands over her mouth staring down at Robb’s prone form. Myrcella looked down and scooted back. Robb was awake, his eyes were open and clear. But there was one problem, instead of clear sky blue. They were a rich golden yellow. Myrcella couldn’t look away, Robb took a deep breath then slowly sat up, his strange new eyes met hers, and there was absolutely no recognition, his eyes were completely devoid of any emotion, they were cold and calculating. Myrcella and Dacey both looked at each and slowly moved to stand up, very slowly. Myrcella looked back down at Robb. He was staring off into space now.

“Robb.” She whispered. His hands clenched; he could hear her.

“What the fuck did you do to him witch?” Dacey hissed harshly. Maggy the Frog looked undisturbed by Robb’s strange awakening.

“I saved him and gave him a gift.” Maggy stated, not bothering to whisper.

Robb shot up and faced Maggie. Myrcella couldn’t help but squeak at the sight of Robb’s bare body. Robb didn’t seem to care, he growled, actually growled, and bared his teeth at the witch. Seven help her, he had fangs too. His canines had sharpened to small sharp points. What had happened to Robb? The sound of a sword being drawn caused Myrcella to turn away from Robb towards the Greatjon who had drawn his sword. Maggy the Frog raised a single brow and said flatly.

“That is a very bad idea.” Robb had visibly tensed, then faster than humanly possible he turned and launched himself at the northern lord. Myrcella had no idea if it was her or Dacey who screamed first.

* * *

It had in fact been Petey who screamed when the Greatjon crashed through the door of Maggy the Frog’s shack after being thrown like a ragdoll by the very naked King in the North. Dacey was out next with Myrcella chasing after. Robb had leapt off the winded Greatjon and turned on the Lady of Bear Island next. She lashed out landing a hard punch to the King’s jaw. He didn’t even blink, Dacey however howled in pain stumbling back and clutching her hand to her chest.

“Fuck!” It had felt like she had just punched a stone wall!

Looking up horrified at her King. He growled and swung delivering a harsh blow that knocked Dacey off her feet. She landed in the dirt, clutching her face, blood pouring from her nose. He stood over the prone woman ready to attach and finish her.

“Robb! Stop!” Myrcella screamed, he turned and cocked his head.

She had her little knife clutched tightly in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she took a step forward and then dropped it, holding her hands out showing she had nothing else. Blood rushed in her ears, her heart beating a frantic tattoo in her chest. With Robb distracted, Dacey was able to crawl away. Toby and Jay moved forward to tackle the madman who was once their King. Dacey shooed them back. Griffin had the bow and an arrow notched, prepared to take a shot if necessary.

Myrcella’s mouth went dry and she took two more steps forward. Robb looked at her curiously then hesitantly stepped towards her. Myrcella tried so very hard to look only at his face and not well, the rest. Robb stepped forward again. A frown marring his brow. He kept walking slowly towards Myrcella, finally stopping an inch away from her. Myrcella swore she was about to faint, staring straight at Robb Stark’s very muscular, very toned chest. She slowly looked up and met his heated glare.

Up close those golden eyes were terrifying and haunting at the same time. Robb reached up, slowly and moved a strand of hair from her face, gently running his rough fingertips down her cheek and neck finally stopping on her collar bone. Myrcella didn’t dare breath. Then Robb leaned forward and rested his forehead against the crook of her neck. It was such an intimate moment, Myrcella was keenly aware of everyone watching her and their King. She reached up and touched Robb’s shoulders. Then he went limp, forcing Myrcella to try and hold up a naked and very heavy and clearly once again unconscious man. With another squeak she fell back, Robb falling on top of her. Pinning her to the ground, the moment was over and Myrcella wanted to die.

Dacey marched over, blood still flowing from her face, to Maggy who was leaning against the shattered doorframe utterly nonplussed by what had just happened.

“Wad da buck did oh do!” She shrieked banishing her axe. Maggy rolled her eye then flicked her wrist, the axe turned into a snake and Dacey yelped, dropping it to the ground, the snake was then an axe again.

“I saved your Wolf King. I will explain no more until he awakens again. Don’t worry, he’ll be back in his senses by then.” Then she winked and sauntered off into the woods.

Next to her Myrcella squeaked out another “help.” Toby and Jay ran forward and dragged the sleeping Robb of Myrcella, who was blushing bright pink. Standing she dusted herself off. Toby started to say something but Myrcella held up a hand.

“Not a word.” She replied shorty, cheeks bright red and refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

Hours later and Robb was back on the sleeping pallet. Myrcella once again at his side, her knees pulled up to her chest. Next to her sat a very grumpy Dacey. Maggy the Frog had forced the Lady of Bear Island to be treated. Her nose broken badly, and had needed to be reset. Her face had swollen and become molted in horrible black and purple bruises, two black eyes completed her injuries and gave her the appearance of a very angry racoon. The Greatjon had three broken ribs, and a very bruised ego.

“But id she oh to ibm?” Myrcella grimaced at the unfortunate lisp Dacey would have until some of the horrible swelling went down healed.

“I don’t know. With how he acted, his eyes, the fangs, his speed… it’s like he isn’t human anymore.”

“Ben wad’s he?”

“I don’t. I don’t know.” Maggy bustled into the tent.

“Right, she-bear. Come here.” Dacey made no move to stand, crossing her arms she glared haughtily at the woman and shook her head.

Myrcella couldn’t help but scoot a bit away.

Maggy had proven to be an actual witch with actual magic. It probably would not do to anger her.

Maggy sighed, “Petulant child.”

Then she marched over and grabbed Dacey by the ear and with remarkable strength pulled the young woman up and across the shack, heaving her into a chair before reaching into a jar and removing a handful of wriggling black things.

“You’ll thank me for this she-bear when the swelling goes down.” The witch then opened her hand and picked out the wriggling things one by one and placed them across Dacey’s face. “Leeches. They’ll suck up the blood pooling from the bruises then fall off when their full.

Myrcella gagged and Dacey suddenly was very pale and very still. Maggy patted her head in what should have been a tender gesture. In that moment it was pure mockery. A groan came from the pallet Myrcella focused back on the king. He was awake again, Robb’s fantastical golden eyes blinked repeatedly, tired and unfocused.

“Robb?”

“Ella?” Robb groaned and covered his eyes with his hand. “What happened?” Myrcella had no idea where to start.

“I saved your life Young Wolf.” Maggy stated, forcibly pulling Robb’s hand away from his eyes. “Don’t be a dolt, the longer you keep your eyes covered the longer the adjustment.”

Robb finally opened his eyes and sat up slowly, looking around the shack before finally coming to rest on the pouting leech covered Dacey, his eyes noticeably widening at her sorry state.

“What happened?”

“You did.” Maggy stated. “You came here at death’s door, the only thing that could save you would be blood magic, old and dark magic that hasn’t been attempted for tens of thousands of years, and your friends in all their foolishness wanted you to live, by any means necessary.” Robb looked horrified.

“You would have done the same for us Robb.” Myrcella grumbled. Maggy pointed a crooked and filthy finger at Myrcella. “She gave me a taste of that sweet Lannister blood. And a life.”

“Wait what!” Myrcella interrupted. Maggy grinned darkly. “Your brother Joffrey, silly girl. A king for a king Funny enough. He was poisoned at his own wedding, dramatic irony.” Then she pointed at Dacey.

“She gave me that thick, beautiful hair, it will never grow again. Then that unruly excuse for a Northman gave me his voice, mostly because it annoyed me to no end.” Maggy paused and grinned at Robb. “All that power along with the sacrifice of your wolf at the Red Wedding; that’s what folks are calling it now by the way, I was able to weave a spell to save your life. To make you more than a foolish human, you are now faster, stronger, your senses are sharper. You are a human wolf, a hunter, a warrior.” Looking away the witch began to examine her long nails.

“Of course, no magic is perfect. I melded your soul to that of a direwolf. Two very different powers, and they will fight for dominance within you Robb Stark of Winterfell. Until you find balance and accept what has happened and I don’t mean just this.” She waved a hand at Robb. “You will be…. Shall we say inconvenienced every full moon. The wolf will take over and you will transform. Literally, transform into a wolf.” Robb looked horrified. “But when you find the balance within. You will be near unstoppable. You will be able to transform whenever you wish, even stronger and faster than you are now. You will hold command over all creatures in the wilds.”

“Why? Why would you do this to me? Curse me like this?” Robb yelled, Myrcella couldn’t help but flinch. Robb shot her a look full of concern in those new golden eyes.

“You said curse not me, Young Wolf.” Maggy the Frog stood and crossed her arms. “Oh, by the way should you bite anyone while transformed into a wolf. They’ll become like you.”

Then Maggy smirked at Robb and she was suddenly gone. Myrcella leapt to her feet. The shack and the witch were gone. Leaving them in the clearing. Robby sitting half naked on his pallet, Dacey on a stool covered in leeches. Griffin, Toby, Jay, Petey, and the Greatjon were sitting around their campfire staring in shock at the trio and the place where Maggy the Frog’s home one stood before vanishing into thin air.

“What the fuck just happened?” Myrcella stated.

“That fucking witch!” Robb roared, bolting up from the sleeping pallet and started stalking around the clearing. “Come back here!” He screamed into the woods. As Robb raged at the vanished woods witch, the others looked on in shocked and confused silence. Griffin turned to Myrcella and Dacey at last.

“What happened in there?” Myrcella took a deep breath and recounted Robb’s second awakening and Maggy’s explanation of what she had done to save Robb’s life.

“That bloody woman.” Griffin growled. Greatjon gestured wildly, his mouth moving yet no sounds came out. His meaning was clear, they were all a bunch of fools who had gotten their king cursed by a mad witch. Robb collapsed to his knees and buried his face in his hands. He looked defeated, simply defeated. Myrcella felt her heart break at the sight. Tears pricked the edge of her vision and her throat felt suddenly raw. She stood and slowly walked over to Robb’s prone form.

“Robb.” He slowly looked up at her, Myrcella choked out a sob, his eyes were brimming with such sorrow and pain. Myrcella knelt next to him. “I’m sorry.” She was openly sobbing now. “We all thought that she could save your life. None of us knew that she would do anything like this.”

“It would have been kinder to let me just die. I deserved to die.” Robb bit out. Myrcella had no words. She sobbed again, then reached out and took Robb’s hand in hers. She expected him to pull back to scream and rage at them all. But he didn’t Robb just sat there, staring forlornly at the woods.

After a while Myrcella was able to get Robb up and join everyone else around the campfire. While leading Robb back to the others the sleeve of her shirt rode up revealing her wounded wrist. Robb stopped and gently took her wrist.

“Myrcella.” He rasped. Myrcella couldn’t bear to meet his gaze as she gently extracted her wrist from his gentle grasp.

“The price I paid. She cut too deep, Griffin ended up having to cauterize the cut to stop the bleeding.” Finally, she grit her teeth and looked up at Robb. “And I don’t regret the price; because it meant you lived. Because of that I will wear the scar as a badge of honor for the rest of my days.” Robb stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he silently moved past her and sat at the edge of the fire. Petey stood and quietly handed Robb his shirt and jerkin. Robb thanked him softly and pulled the clothes on. Myrcella sighed and went to sit next to Dacey. The leeches had all fallen off and Dacey was throwing the little creatures into the fire looking somewhat gleeful as they boiled and burned. Her face was looking much less swollen, however. Myrcella raised a brow at Dacey and the women shrugged in response before tossing the last leech into the fire. Next to the two women Toby and Jay were discussing the vanishing of Maggy the Frog and her shack.

“It ain’t bloody possible.” Toby was saying.

“An yet, here we are. Same bloody clearing, but no house and no crazy witch! Obviously magic ain’t just the stories Ma told us.” Toby sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Fuck. I just hope the stories about the Long Night stay stories.”

“Da witch did say somethin was happenin in da North.” Dacey said, her lisp was almost gone already. Jay paled before turning to his brother.

“If I get eaten by a bloody Wight, I’m gonna kill you.” Toby rolled his eyes.

“If you get eaten by a bloody Wight, Ma’s gonna kill you.” Myrcella wrapped her cloak tighter around her body. The days were getting much colder, another reminder that winter was coming.

“I don’t think I’ve heard the story of the Long Night.”

“Everyone in da North grows up with da stories of da Long Night.” Dacey stated. Myrcella looked at her expectantly. Dacey looked over at Jay and Toby, then launched into the story. Dacey described the First Men and their war with the Children of the Forest. Then the coming of the Night King and his White Walkers commanding the army of the dead, the winter that lasted hundreds of years until the Last Hero fought to defeat the Others and bring about a new Dawn. When Dacey finished everyone was silent. The night around them seemed to close around the fire, Myrcella couldn’t help but shiver. When the silence almost became suffocating, Petey finally spoke up.

“So, what exactly happens now that King Robb is better?” The boy asked, turning all thoughts away from Ice monsters and walking dead men. What did happen now? Myrcella had no idea. She turned to look at Robb. Expecting him to speak up, but he sat silently at the edge of the group, staring back into the forest, seemingly ignoring the rest of them. The Greatjon clapped loudly, getting everyone’s attention. Well everyone except Robb.

The group watched curiously as Greatjon began to gesture wildly. Trying to figure out what the newly mute lord was trying to tell them.

“We should run off to Lys and have a good time?” Jay asked. Toby smacked his younger brother on the head.

“No, you git. He’s saying we should fuck off to Essos and start out own Sell-Sword company.” Greatjon shook his head and repeated the gestures.

“He’s saying we should go back to the North, rally all the surviving houses and their soldiers and take back the North and fuck the Boltons in the arse!” Everyone turned to stare incredulously at Petey, the boy sat grinning proudly. The former northern lord snapped his fingers in the boys direction and nodded enthusiastically. 

“All od those are horrible ibeas.” Dacey stated. “Be are only seven fighters an, an ex-princess. On top of thad chances are everyone thinks we’re dead.” Greatjon started gesturing again.

“Lord Umber stop.” Greatjon went still at Robb’s cold command. Robb finally turned away from the woods. He turned and faced his companions. Myrcella couldn’t help but notice how the flames from the campfire reflected in his golden eyes.

“Lady Mormont is right; it would be a fool’s errand to try and take back the North. Right now, all that would happen would be more death and destruction, especially with winter almost here. I won’t ask you all to do that and I won’t subject the North to more suffering. I won’t even ask you all to stay here.” He turned to Toby and Jay, “Go to Essos, or wherever you wish. I release you all from your oaths. I’m not a king anymore. Seven hells, if what that bloody witch said was true, I don’t think I’m even human anymore.” Robb said bitterly. Everyone was silent, the weight of Robb’s statement rested heavy in the air. It was obvious the first time he had woken and almost killed Dacey and Greatjon. He was something else now, the extent of his transformation was still relatively unknown it wouldn’t become clear until the next full moon when Robb would supposedly change into an actual wolf. Finally, it was Griffin who broke the heavy silence.

“With all due respect Your Grace, fuck that. I pledged my sword to you and I ain’t going back on my word.” The other soldiers all nodded in agreement.

“I think you’re stuck with us Robb.” Myrcella said softly. Seven knew, she would not abandon Robb Stark anytime soon. Robb smiled sadly at them and nodded weakly. He didn’t think he was worthy of their loyalty. But what Robb failed to realize was, everything went beyond simple loyalty to a liege lord or king now. This was a group brought together by tragedy and survival and impossible odds they would stick together until the end wherever or whatever that may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!!!!! It's a werewolf AU!!!!!! Kudos to the one reviewer who guessed it! I also made a pinterest board for this story if anyone wants to check it out.  
> https://pin.it/wca2d6hhvcilr7 
> 
> Also face claims for several characters.  
> Bridget Regan is Dacey Mormont  
> Russell Crowe (Circa Robin Hood 2010) is Griffin  
> Aiden Turner is Jay  
> Clive Standen is Toby  
> John Bell is Petey


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone tries to figure out what happens next.

It was decided that the group would continue traveling in the morning. Where they were going and what they could do when they got there, no one knew. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it would have to do in the meantime. As Myrcella curled up to sleep she realized something. If Joffrey was dead, then Tommen would be king now. The sudden thought made her want to cry again. Joffrey was horrible and cruel and she honestly could not bring herself to mourn for her older brother. Tommen was a sweet and kind boy. But he was also soft and would be easy to manipulate, taking the throne, and becoming a King. Myrcella feared how her brother would be used by those around him. That was her last thoughts before sleep consumed her. Her dreams were filled with the image of Tommen strung up like one of those dancing puppets, figures swathed in darkness making him dance, controlling his every single move. Then Myrcella herself was being controlled by strings, forced to dance alongside her brother. Myrcella woke gasping. It was still dark, everyone else was still asleep. Myrcella couldn’t go back to sleep so she sat next to the dying fire and began to doodle in the ash. Looking over at Robb she thought that he may be awake but she couldn’t tell. Part of her had been concerned that he would disappear into the night, abandoning them. Yet he was still here. She was worried for him, Myrcella began to draw a wolf, the things Maggy had told them, the things Robb had done the first time he woke, of which he apparently had no memory of. Myrcella became so lost in her thoughts she failed to notice the passage of time. The sun was finally rising and everyone began to wake up. Realizing this, Myrcella used her boot to erase her mindless doodles, most of which were wolves. Something sparkled in the campfire’s ashes making Myrcella pause. Frowning she knelt closer and reached into the burned out remains, there was still some warmth but then her fingers brushed something hard and cool to the touch. Myrcella pulled the object from the embers and her eyes widened. It was her necklace, the one that she had given to Maggy as initial payment.

“Myrcella?” Dacey walked over to her. Wordlessly Myrcella held up the necklace. Dacey stared at the necklace. “How the hells-“

“I’ve no bloody idea. It was in the fire.” Dacey cursed under her breath. Part of Myrcella wanted to leave the necklace. Another part of her wanted to keep it. The latter won out and Myrcella put the necklace back on, the familiar weight around her neck was strangely welcoming and disturbing at the same time.

Everyone seemed more than ready to abandon the strange clearing. Camp was broken quickly and efficiently, soon they were ready to continue on their journey. Myrcella couldn’t help but take one last look at the strange place, the standing stones seemed to be the only reminder that the place had been occupied. They shimmered strangely in the morning light, Myrcella shuddered and pulled her bag closer before following Dacey and Robb into the trees once again. They had just entered the forest when Petey yelped. Myrcella turned back to find the boy staring back in the direction of the clearing. Except, it was gone. Just like the witch’s shack the clearing, standing stones and all had simply disappeared, becoming replaced with the same thick woods that surrounded them.

“Fucking magic.” Jay whispered, walking back to where the clearing should have been. He looked back at the others and raised his arms and shrugged incredulously. “Fucking. Magic.”

* * *

After the strange disappearance of Maggy’s clearing the group moved quickly. The Vale was mountainous, at times the terrain was hard to navigate, eventually they found one of the many narrow mountain roads that wound through the entire region. It was decided that it would be easier to travel on roads once again. There were few travelers on the roads and those that they did come across tended to move quickly past their little company, Myrcella wasn’t really surprised, after all they were quite the ragged looking bunch. At night they would leave the roads and make camp far enough from the path that no one would likely come across them, along with setting a rotating watch to ensure that they would not be caught off guard by any unexpected visitors. They had been traveling for a little over a week and a half, if Myrcella’s estimations were correct the full moon was another week away. They needed to figure out where they were going by then because when the full moon came Robb would transform for the first time and who knows what could happen. Robb himself had become somewhat cold and withdrawn from everyone. He spoke little, Myrcella could just tell he was struggling, he looked so tired, there were times when he would tense up and clench his fist so tight that his nails would dig into his palm to the point where blood would be drawn. He would suddenly stop walking, squeeze his eyes shut and clench his jaw. Myrcella worried that one night he would just walk away and disappear, yet he was always still there when she woke. Sometimes when Myrcella would take her turn at the watch Robb would still be up sitting by the fire. Myrcella was certain that on those nights Robb never slept at all, he wouldn’t offer to cover her or any of the others shifts, he would just sit there silently, staring at the flames.

“I had first watch last night. Robb sat up with me, he was still awake when I had Toby take over.” Myrcella whispered as she walked next to Dacey.

“Aye, he was still by the fire when I took last watch.” Dacey replied, pulling her hood up over her poorly shaved head. It had started to drizzle in earnest. “I don’t think he’s slept at all these past few nights.”

“I’m worried. He’s not sleeping, not talking. I think he must hate us all, for having the witch save him. I’m afraid one day we’ll all wake up and just find him disappeared. I care about Robb so much; I don’t want him to be suffering and I don’t want him to feel so alone.” Myrcella ranted. Dacey grabbed Myrcella’s arm and pulled her back.

“Hush. Not so loud or he’ll hear you.”

Myrcella sighed.

“Sorry it’s just-

“We know. You care about him. Trust me, we all know.”

Up ahead, Robb Stark’s heart grew even heavier in his chest. He risked a glance back to where Myrcella and Dacey walked. He had heard every word of their hushed conversation.

* * *

Since he had woken in the strange witch’s home. There has been something in his head. It wasn’t a voice exactly, more like feelings and emotions. It wasn’t him however, it was separate, something baser, wilder than anything else. It was almost like the connection he’d had with Grey Wind. However, with his connection to Grey Wind he’d had some semblance of control, he could block out the direwolf or sometimes switch the connection and see through Grey Wind’s eyes. But this new thing inside of him, he had no control over it. It was an internal battle, himself against the wildness. It was exhausting and jarring, it wasn’t just the strange presence in his head, physically he had changed too. He was stronger and faster, his sense of smell was stronger too, his eyesight was sharper, so was his hearing, and well, his teeth. Robb had lost count of how many times he’d bit his own tongue or cut his own lip on his new fang-like canines. Every time his blood filled his mouth, he would gag not because it tasted foul or reminded him of the times he’d warg into Grew Wind in his sleep while the wolf hunted. No, because it tasted good. The wildness would stir calling out for him to run, hunt. Kill.  
With his new, heightened senses Robb found himself able to see perfectly at night, while the others slept, he became overwhelmed with the sights and sounds that the rest were simply unable to hear. He tried to block it out but the thing didn’t seem to like that. Then when he did manage to nod off he was haunted by nightmares. The betrayal at the Twins. Talisa being killed before his eyes, his mother, his men. People who counted on him, who expected him to lead them. They were all dead thanks to his stupid, foolish arrogance. Sometimes in especially cruel dreams, they would rise from the dead, curse at him and call him a monster. Sometimes the thing in his head would wake him and sometimes it would remain still, letting him drown in his failure. Robb Stark hated the wild thing, he hated himself. Thinking back to Myrcella’s, discussion with Dacey. He didn’t think he could ever hate Myrcella or any of the others for trying to save his life though. Did he think they were a bunch of fools for trusting a strange woman who lived in the middle of a magic disappearing stone circle? Yes. Was he withdrawing from those around him while trying to accept his new reality because he had no idea how to deal with all the pain and suffering he and his companions had endured? Yes.

Robb was brought out of his inner musings by a gasp from behind him, he turned, moving faster than possible, caught Myrcella as she lost her footing. The group had been travelling down a steep mountain path that led into a large, sprawling valley filled with thick woods. It had started raining and the path was quickly becoming inundated with mud, turning into a slippery slope. Myrcella was clutching his tunic while he had one arm wrapped around her shoulder and the other holding her waist. She was staring up at him with those big green eyes. He’s never noticed before, but her eyes were filled with warm brown flecks scattered through all that green. It suddenly reminded him of the forests back in the North. Robb suddenly became aware that everyone had stopped and was staring at them. He swallowed, for once the wild thing was content to remain still.

“Careful.” He rasped. Gently lifting Myrcella back upright. “Slippery.” Even when she was standing again he kept his hands on her waist and shoulder. Color started to creep into Myrcella’s cheeks and down her neck. Robb cleared his throat and finally removed his hand from her waist. He could have sworn that something like sadness flashed across her eyes. He took a step back and allowed Dacey and Myrcella to pass him. Yet after that he couldn’t help but keep close to his former hostage.

It continued to rain harder and harder as the day wore on. At some point the path they had been using all but disappeared. Darkness had fallen and the temperature seemed to be dropping by the minute. Next to him, Myrcella was shivering, her cloak was completely soaked through from the rain, the same could be said for the entire company. They needed to find shelter soon. Robb strangely found himself not minding the cold or the wet at all. They were walking along the base of a cliff face at the bottom of the mountains when suddenly it was there looming out of the night. A cave opening. Robb was fairly certain the others couldn’t see it yet.

“There’s a cave up ahead.” He stated. Dacey frowned and stared into the darkness, wiping the rain from her eyes.

“I don’t see anything.”

“But I do. It’s only about five hundred yards away.” Robb shot back at the Lady of Bear Island.

“Caves in the mountains are seldom empty Your Grace.” Griffin interjected, “But if it means gettin out of this damn rain then I say we go for it.”

“I agree…” Myrcella said through chattering teeth. Robb nodded at her, then took the lead, Griffin and Myrcella following behind. After a moment’s hesitation the others followed too. Soon enough the others could make out the cave as well.

“How could you see that all the way back there in this weather?” Dacey asked incredulously.

“My eyes are stronger. I can see in the dark.” Was all Robb said.

“Well, I don’t suppose you can take a look in and make sure we don’t have any unexpected company.” Robb stepped up to the entrance and peered into the darkness. The cave was deep and it appeared that several shafts branched even deeper into the bowls of the mountains. The air coming from the cave smelled stale, the only sounds coming from within was the occasional drip of water or clatter of a fallen rock.

“There’s nothing there. We’ll be safe.” He said at last before stepping into the shelter of the cave and out of the torrential rain. Everyone was quick to follow, glad to have someplace dry to rest. Griffin reached inside of his coat and pulled out a small dry bundle of kindling and set about starting a small fire. A small tree grew out of a crack on the edge of the cave. Jay and Toby stripped some of the smaller branches and soon the fire Griffin had started burned merrily in the cave, casting light and warmth on the weary travelers. Myrcella sank down, pulling off her drenched cloak and laying it out to dry. She was still shivering, Robb noticed as he quietly sank down next to her. He didn’t notice the look Dacey and the Greatjon shared with each other. It hadn’t escaped their attention that Robb had kept quite close to Myrcella after she slipped earlier. Everyone else stripped their soaked outer layers and bedded down for the night around the toasty fire. Greatjon thumped his chest indicating that he would take the first watch. Next to him Myrcella shivered again pulling her knees to her chest. She was still too cold. Robb’s jerkin was mostly dry so he quickly undid the laces, pulling it over his head and holding it out to Myrcella.

“Here.” Myrcella hesitantly reached out, then stilled her hand.

“Won’t you be cold?” She asked. Robb have her a little half smirk and shook his head.

“No, I seem to run hotter these days. Please take it, you need it more than me.” Myrcella smiled softly and pulled the garment on. It dwarfed her smaller frame and she pulled it close, snuggling deep into the garment’s comforting warmth.

“Thank you, Robb.” Robb nodded then turned back to the fire. Petey and Jay were already fast asleep. So was Griffin, Toby and Dacey were talking quietly about what tomorrow would bring, he still heard what they were saying perfectly clear but decided to pretend to ignore them. The Greatjon sat on Dacey’s other side, closest to the cave entrance keeping watch. After a while Robb felt a weight on his shoulder, the scent of lavender and rosemary filling his nostrils. Glancing to the side he saw Myrcella had fallen asleep against him. The wild thing stirred within him and he felt the strongest urge to protect, directed at Myrcella. Slowly he reached up and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, Myrcella sighed in her sleep and relaxed further against him. Robb leaned back against the wall of the cave, feeling a calmness he had not felt since he had awoken and before he knew it, he had drifted off into a restful and blessedly dreamless sleep.

* * *

Myrcella groaned as she woke, her neck was knotted and tight from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by Dacey smirking at her from across the fire.

“Sleep well?” She asked. Myrcella’s brow furrowed, then she lifted her head and saw what she had been using as a pillow; Robb Stark’s shoulder. Myrcella’s eyes widened and her cheeks began to warm. Robb was apparently still asleep, his arm wrapped casually around her shoulders. He looked so peaceful, Myrcella almost instantly forgot her embarrassment at the intimacy of her position, it didn’t help that Robb’s embraces was warm and cozy in the cool morning. Myrcella tried to move without waking Robb, unfortunately she jostled his side with her elbow, he awoke almost instantly. Myrcella felt her cheeks flush once again as Robb looked over at her sleepily. The two stared at each other for a moment before Robb cleared his throat and pulled his arm from around her. Dacey chose that moment to speak, easily distracting Robb and Myrcella from each other.

“It’s mid-morning. We all decided this would be a good resting place for a couple of days. Jay’s still sleeping, because he had last watch.” Dacey stated, motioning to the snoring lump next to her. “Griffin and Greatjon went hunting, and Petey and Toby went to explore the rest of the caves.”

“It stopped raining.” Robb stated, looking towards the entrance of the cave.

“Aye, just before dawn.” Dacey replied. “Good work finding this place last night.”

“It was nothing, just wanted to help.” Dacey opened her mouth no doubt to shoot back at Robb with some sort of witty retort but was cut off by voices coming from the darkness. Petey and Toby appeared from the bowls of the cave, each carrying a torch. Myrcella looked over at Robb.

“Did you hear them coming?” Robb shrugged lightly.

“You lot wouldn’t believe what we found!” Toby yelled before kicking his sleeping brother awake. “Come quick.”

Myrcella followed Toby and Petey along with Dacey, Robb, and Jay deep into the cave. Through narrow twisted stone passages, the only light coming from the torches they carried. Finally, Toby and Petey stopped.

“This is where we found them.” Toby whispered reverently. “Take a look.” Myrcella raised her torch. Carved into the cave wall were figures. The entire wall was covered in the carvings, some depicted stick-like figures, others were crude animals, then there were geometric shapes. It was beautiful, moving further in the cave Myrcella discovered it wasn’t just carvings, but paintings as well, Myrcella was at a loss for words. The pictographs and petroglyphs melded into one weaving themselves into a complex story that only the original artists could comprehend.

“These could have been made by the Children of the Forest, or the First Men.” Dacey gasped.

“More like both.” Robb said holding his torch up to a carving of two distinct groups human-like in shape. One group was significantly smaller than the other. “This all must have been created hundreds of years, maybe even thousands of years before the Andals.”

Myrcella stepped closer to examine some of the paintings, it looked like lions, running after their prey, horses, strange cattle with large horns. Another wall had wolves, mammoths, shadow cats, and large lopsided bears. Next to them was a large group of handprints, the artists signatures. Myrcella thought to herself. Petey, reached out to touch one of the prints. Myrcella grabbed his arm.

“No.” She whispered. “We shouldn’t touch these.” It felt like a sacred place, one that they should leave as they found it.

“Myrcella’s right.” Robb said. “We need to leave this place be.”

“Aye.” Jay replied. “Feels like I’m in a Godswood. The Old Gods are here.” As they were leaving the cavern Myrcella couldn’t help but look up. Her breath caught in her throat. On the ceiling were dragons, painted in the same fluid style of the other animals on the walls. their swirling fiery breath danced in the torch light, directed at a single carved figure surrounded by what look liked some sort of bird. It held a spear defiantly above its head, directed at the coming flames. Myrcella shivered and ran to catch up with the others.

By the time they reached the main cave it must have been around noon. Griffin and Greatjon were still not back from hunting. When the pair finally returned it was with several nice fat rabbits and the news that they had found a freshwater spring and pool that fed one of the many mountain streams. After skinning the rabbits and setting them over the fire, Myrcella, Dacey, and Petey set out to refill the groups water skins from the spring. It was easy to find; the pool was fairly large, naturally formed at the bottom of a shear cliff face, fed by the bubbling spring that spewed forth from the rocks halfway up the face.

“That pool looks quite appetizing.” Dacey stated handing a filled water skin to Myrcella, who handed it to Petey.

“Wouldn’t it be freezing?” Myrcella asked. Dacey snorted.

“Southerners. What’s a little cold water compared to the feeling of being clean for the first time in moon turns.” Myrcella was suddenly aware of the greasy knots in her hair and the dust that stuck to her skin like a glove.

“You’re right.”

“Back home, Ma made us bath at least once a moon turn. It was always a fun day. I’d go with my older sister Sigrid and we’d take turns runnin to the well to fill up our tub. Ma would heat the water over the fire then the little ones would go first cause the water would be warmest.” The usually cheerful and goofy Petey stated rather glumly. “Wonder who helps Sigrid an Ma get the water now I’m gone.” Myrcella suddenly realized how young Petey was. Barely thirteen namedays.

“You’ll see them again, one day. They’ll maybe even let you bath first, being a war hero and all.” Myrcella said, trying to comfort the boy who suddenly remined her so much of Tommen.

“I don’t feel like a hero.”

“You never do, Petey, you never do.” Dacey stated stepping away from the spring. “We best get back. We can come back later.” Myrcella followed Dacey and Petey silently. Back in the Red Keep, Myrcella would simply ask for fresh water or a bath. The servants would jump to attention, before now she had never gathered water from a spring or anything like what Petey described. A bath was never a chore or a game to her, it just was.

It had been several days since finding the cave, and no one seemed to be in a hurry to continue traveling. Myrcella and Dacey had even had time to sneak back to the pool and bathe. It had been absolutely freezing, but Myrcella had cherished the feeling of the weeks of dirt and grime sloughing off her body, she had even managed to work most of the tangles out of her hair.

Now Myrcella was sitting outside of the cave. Looking out at the surrounding valley and forest. It was beautiful, scatterings of color showed the season’s slow change into winter and Myrcella found herself desperately wanting to paint the stunning view. Unfortunately, with no paper or paints Myrcella was stuck with simply trying to memorize the scene.

“Can I join you?” She hadn’t heard Robb come up. He was finally starting to open up to the others again. After the first rainy night Myrcella once again found herself gravitating to Robb. Or maybe it was the other way around, whatever it was Myrcella tried not to read into it too much.

“Please do.” Robb sat down next to her at a respectful distance. Myrcella was suddenly brought back to that afternoon in Riverrun’s Godswood. Gods, that felt like an eternity ago.

“It’s so beautiful isn’t it?” Myrcella asked, still staring out at the forest and valley.

“Aye. It is.” Robb replied, Myrcella failed to notice that Robb wasn’t looking at the view but at her. “I… I think we could stay here.” Myrcella finally turned to Robb.

“What?”

“We can’t run forever. Here we have shelter, access to fresh water, the cave entrance is hidden enough to avoid detection, and the villages in the valley are fairly isolated. No one would think that a former king and his men would hide here.”

“Am I?” Myrcella asked curiously.

“Are you what?”

“One of your men.” Myrcella replied. Robb was silent before chuckling softly.

“Aye. I suppose you are; you’ve done much for us. Helped us escape the Twins, you helped me with my wounds. Even though I was a stubborn shit about it. You are definitely one of us Ella.” Myrcella grinned and subconsciously rubbed her wrist. “You’ve even got war wounds.” Myrcella pulled up her sleeve revealing the mostly healed burns from where Griffin cauterized her knife wound from Maggy the Frog.

“I suppose it is a war wound.” Myrcella looked back at Robb, his face had fallen when she had pulled up her sleeve. Even I though he had tried to joke about it, the entire experience with the witch deeply disturbed him.

“Tomorrow night is the Full Moon.” Robb stated, the air suddenly felt colder. “I want you all to stay in the cave. I’ll go into the forest alone and, well, see what happens.” Robb moved closer to Myrcella. “But I swear, I will return in the morning. I swear on the Old Gods and the New.” Myrcella felt the air rush out of her lungs as Robb’s intense gaze bore into her. She swallowed; her throat suddenly very dry.

“Good.” She rasped. Before standing and brushing the dirt off her pants. Robb stood too.

“But what do you think about staying here?” He asked, brushing the intense moment between the two under the proverbial rug.

“I think it’s a good plan. But for one thing.” Myrcella stated.

“What?” Robb asked.

“The only reason that no one is hunting us anymore is because everyone thinks you’re most likely dead, Robb. If my family even for one second believed you to be alive they would hunt us down to the ends of the earth.” Myrcella stated stoically. “Even if we stay here, no one can ever know who you are Robb.”

“The same would go for you.” Myrcella smiled sadly.

“I know.” She said before walking back into the caves.

* * *

The next day was one filled with unspoken tension. Everyone was on edge as nightfall crept closer. Robb especially, he was jumpy and anxious, unable to keep still for any period of time. He had gone with Myrcella to fetch water from the mountain spring and couldn’t even manage to hold the water skin his hands shook so badly. Dusk finally settled and the first stars began to dot the sky. Everyone stood at the mouth of the cave with Robb. For the first time all day he was completely still. He stood barefoot in his breaches and tunic silently staring into the woods, no one had any idea what would happen tonight. Robb sighed and closed his haunting eyes before turning to the rest of the group. Opening his eyes, Myrcella met his steady gaze with her own.

“Whatever happens tonight. Stay in the cave.” He rasped. Greatjon stepped forward and placed a heavy hand on Robb’s shoulder, squeezing it gently before placing his other hand over his own heart and nodding at Robb with a sad smile. Greatjon turned and ambled back into the cave, Griffin, Toby, Jay, and Petey following him. Robb looked back over at Myrcella, then began to walk towards the tree line.

“Robb.” Myrcella called out, he stopped and turned back. “We’ll see you in the morning.” Robb stared at her for a moment then wordlessly turned and continued further into the tree line. Myrcella stood watching until Robb had completely vanished. Dacey finally grabbed Myrcella’s arm and gently pulled her into the cave.

The others were sat around the campfire, Myrcella noticed immediately that everyone had their weapons out within arm’s reach. Myrcella reached down for her little knife then stopped. She drew her hand back and sank down against the cave wall, staring out at the entrance into the darkening night. Griffin managed to shoot a pheasant down earlier in the day. The bird was roasting over the fire yet Myrcella had no appetite. Neither did anyone else it seemed, they all just sat silently waiting for whatever was going to happen next.

When the first scream echoed through the woods everyone shot to their feet. Myrcella felt her blood turn to ice in her veins as the screaming continued, it was almost inhuman, a sound of suffering and pain and it was Robb. Myrcella hadn’t even realized that she had started to move. Only when Dacey wrapped her arms around her waist did Myrcella realize that she was halfway out of the cave.

“Robb ordered us to stay here!” Dacey yelled dragging Myrcella back.

“He’s hurting!” Myrcella sobbed, she hadn’t even realized that she was crying too. She kept fighting against Dacey when suddenly the screaming stopped. Dacey and Myrcella froze, the world was silent. Then a lone wolf’s howl rang through the night. Myrcella felt the hair on the back of her neck and arms stand on end, her legs gave out and Myrcella fell to the floor dragging Dacey with her. The two-woman stared into the black night; the color drained from Dacey’s face as the howling continued. Myrcella gripped Dacey’s arm, behind them the men doused the fire with water. The cave became pitch black, Myrcella hugged Dacey tighter, too afraid to move. No one moved a muscle that night, everyone in their little company kept a cold silent vigil as night passed. And all fearing what the morning would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't really my favorite, I just couldn’t get the flow the way I wanted it to go. We finally got Robb's POV, the story is mostly going to be from Myrcella's perspective but Robb's is gonna pop up now and then too. I think my favorite part of the chapter was writing about the cave paintings. That scene in season seven with Jon and Dany was one of my favorites, common sense would say that there are more sites similar to the one Jon found on Dragonstone. I based the paintings in my cave off of the Chauvet cave paintings located in France. They are some of the earliest known pictographs ever discovered at around 30,000 years old and they are absolutely stunning. I also took inspiration from the petroglyphs that surround the four corners area here in the Western United States.
> 
> Also, PSA from an archeologist never ever ever touch petroglyphs or pictographs!!! It is not only damaging to historical artifacts but it's also incredibly disrespectful to the peoples and cultures who created them in the first place. Just take pictures. (But with no flash)
> 
> So... Enjoy the chapter. I've got no idea when the next one will be out.
> 
> UPDATE: The formatting is being weird. I Think I've fixed it...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Robb's transformation

The first thing Robb became aware of was the soreness, every bone, every muscle, felt like it had been trampled and broken, his skin felt raw and like thousands of miniscule needles pricked him again and again. The second was the deep exhaustion, his entire head felt like a brick of lead. The third was someone shouting his name, multiple someones. Robb finally managed to crack an eye open. He was on his side, slowly he turned onto his back, groaning as his muscles protested even the slightest movement. He was able to see blue sky though the canopy of trees, he simply lay staring at the morning sky, his mind slowly trying to process what had befallen him during the night. He had left the others in the cave, gone out into the woods and waited. The wild thing had been pushing and pulling waiting for something. Then as the full moon rose it surged within him, breaking through Robb’s very being, consuming his mind and body. The pain had been terrible, unlike anything any person could ever live through. Robb had tried to fight the wild thing. No. Not thing, wolf, the wild wolf. The wolf had won, it had taken him over and he physically transformed into a wolf. He had been almost incapable of thought, everything became pure instinct, his humanity locked away in the mind and body of the wolf.

“Robb!” The trees and sky vanished, golden curls, green eyes with brown specks filled with worry, replaced them, the scent of lavender and rosemary permeating the air around him along with something else, anxiety, his mind supplied. He could smell Myrcella’s fear and anxiety. Two hands gently cradled his face, “Robb.” He slowly reached up and gripped her wrist.

“Ella.” He croaked. He tasted the familiar coppery taste of blood and raw meat on his tongue. Suddenly he felt bile rising in his throat, his stomach tying itself in knots as waves of nausea passed through him. He pulled away, flipping back to his side he vomited violently. Gagging at the vile contents of his stomach, Robb felt tears stinging at his eyes. Head pounding, he was aware of Myrcella yelling.

“I found him!” Then her gentle hand were once again on him, pulling him up away from the sick. Robb sank against her side; he was too exhausted to move. “Here, drink.” Myrcella lifted a water skin to his dry lips. The water was cool and fresh, and helped banish the bile from his mouth. He could hear movement around him, the others finally joining them.

“Seven fucking hells.” Someone swore, Jay maybe. “He looks like shite.” Two more people knelt next to him and Myrcella, Griffin and Greatjon. The pair helped Myrcella move him upright and sitting. Robb finally looked down at himself, his tunic and trousers were rags, he was covered in dirt and dried blood. Whether the blood was his or not he didn’t know.

“Whose blood is this?” Robb asked raising his hands. Jay and Toby exchanged a look.

“Well King Robb, I would hazard a guess and say it’s from the giant shadow cat corpse we found a bit away from here.” Toby stated. Robb groaned and buried his face in his hands as disjointed memories of the night flashed before his eyes. He vaguely remembered fighting the shadow cat, and the joy he felt. He felt a small hand on his shoulder, it was Myrcella.

“Robb, you look exhausted, let’s get back to the cave so you can clean up and rest.” Robb nodded and Griffin and Greatjon hauled him to his feet. The world spun and Robb felt his knees begin to buckle. The walk back to the cave was a haze, just like his memories of the night before. But soon enough they were back at the cave, Griffin helped Robb to his sleeping role and Myrcella was once again by his side, this time with a wet piece of cloth that looked like the scarf she used to tie back her hair. Robb couldn’t help but think for a moment about how they needed more supplies. Myrcella used the rag to gently clean his face and hands, part of him wanted to make her stop fussing over him, but he was simply too tired to protest. When Myrcella finished she helped him lay down and the last thing Robb saw before falling asleep was Myrcella Baratheon’s beautiful green eyes.

* * *

Robb remained asleep for the entire morning and into the afternoon. As daylight had returned Myrcella had rushed from the cave. Robb swore that he would return with the dawn yet he was no where in sight. Myrcella had dived into the woods shouting his name and searching for him. The others were close behind her. When Myrcella finally found him collapsed in the woods not moving, she had feared the worst. Myrcella had rushed to his side and thanked the seven when he moved and whispered her name. Robb looked like he had been through one of the seven hells. His tunic and pants were in ribbons, dirt and blood were caked on his arms and face, there were dark bags under his golden eyes. It was no wonder he had passed out almost as soon as he had lain down.

Myrcella sighed from her seat next to Robb’s bed role. She glanced over at the entrance of the cave. After getting Robb back to the cave, Toby and Jay went back into the woods and retrieved the Shadow cat corpse. Myrcella was curious as to what they could possible do with such a mangled body. Dacey entered the cave and sat down next to her.

“You go and take a break. You’ll worry yourself silly just sitting here next to him.”

“But-“

“No buts.” Dacey growled. “He’ll be fine, if you’re that bloody worried then I’ll stay with him.” Myrcella knew there was little point in arguing with Dacey. Getting up, Myrcella winced at the pins and needles shooting down her foot. She shook it, trying to get the blood flowing again and went out to see what the brothers were doing. Myrcella needed a distraction or else she would fret over Robb until he woke up. Apparently, Toby and Jay’s father was a tanner and also, dead animals were incredibly useful. Toby and Jay worked quickly and efficiently, they had already skinned the beast and had stretched out the fur and hide between several tree branches and were now cutting meat from the bones. It was messy and just a bit gross but Myrcella was fascinated and when the two northmen saw her watching they invited her over. Back in King’s Landing, Myrcella would have never been allowed in the same room as a tradesman let alone learning from one. Yet here she was, a princess of the Seven Kingdoms working with her hands in the innards of a shadow cat learning the finer points of butchering and tanning. Myrcella loved every second of it.

It was several hours later when Robb finally appeared from the cave. He joined the rest of them by the fire outside sitting down next to Myrcella, shaking his head when Greatjon held out a morsel of cooked meat. He couldn’t even think about food right now, or ever again as he recalled vomiting up the shadow cat that morning. A wave of nausea rolled in his stomach. 

“How are you feeling?” Myrcella asked quietly.

“Better. Still tired.” Myrcella nodded.

“Thank you for coming back.”

“You all had to go out and find me this morning. I wouldn’t really say that was coming back.” Robb replied. Myrcella took his hand into hers. Robb noticed that Myrcella’s hands were starting to roughen up. He couldn’t help but run his thumb over a blister he was fairly certain hadn’t been there this morning.

“But you’re still here Robb.” Myrcella looked up and smiled at him softly. “You’re still with us.” Someone cleared their throat, Robb looked around at the others who were staring at him expectantly.

“So… What exactly happened last night?” Jay asked hesitantly. Robb groaned and let go of Myrcella’s hand. Last night, it had been just as Maggy the Frogg had said. Memories of his time transformed flashed in his mind. Robb shuddered.

“It was what the witch said.” He started. “As the moon rose, I, transformed.” Robb could still feel the phantom spasms of pain. “Every bone in my body, every muscle, every piece of me, broke and remade itself. The pain is not something I would wish on anyone, not even my worst enemy.”

“We heard you screaming.” Petey muttered. “It sounded like you were dying.”

“It felt like it.” He paused. Not really knowing how to describe the rest. “Ever since I woke up, there’s been something… inside of me. It’s hard to describe, not a voice and not really feelings. It took over when I changed, I was aware, but I was unable to think really, all I could do was act on instinct.” Dacey spoke up.

“When you woke the first time in the witch’s home. You weren’t you. You attached us.” Robb had no memories of what had happened when he had awoken the first time. Only what the others had told him, that and Dacey’s bruised face. “It was like you were a wild animal. Which I suppose in a way, you were. The only one who calmed you down was Myrcella.” Jay and Petey snickered. Robb turned to the young woman next to him, she was blushing furiously and glaring daggers at the two. Robb had no idea that Myrcella had stopped the wolf. But, looking back it made sense. The wolf seemed to calm down whenever Myrcella was near. Robb was brought out of his thoughts by Toby speaking.

“So, this is going to happen every full moon?”

“Aye, I suppose so. Or at least until I find balance or acceptance or some other weird shite. Then supposedly I’ll be able to change whenever I wish.”

“Can’t imagine ever wanting to willingly turn into a wolf.” Toby muttered. Robb nodded but remained silent. Something, he couldn’t bring himself to tell the others was what it was like to live last night after he turned, relying simply on instinct, having the strength and agility he already had developed increase ten-fold, the adrenaline rush as he fought the shadow cat. He enjoyed it. No, that part of the night would remain his secret.

“Now that we know what happens when you turn. Where do we go from here?” Griffin asked. No one spoke for a moment. The rest of the group was surprised when it was Robb who spoke next.

“Nowhere.” He stated. “We’ve already staid here for a week. The caves are private and we have access to clean water and game in the woods. I can’t go back to civilization; it would be too dangerous. At least for now. If any of you wish to go then you can.” No one spoke up. They would all stay, this motley company would stay together in their new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear god people the world is fucking ending!! I am not just talkin about CORVID 19. Y'all, I live in Utah where we had a 5.9 Earthquake this morning, the largest earthquake in the state since 1992. It also happens to be the first quake I have ever actually felt because I was not alive in 1992. Holy shit it woke me up and sent me diving for cover! Everything was shaking and I legit thought I was about to die. We've been having really strong aftershocks all day too. So I've pretty much been on edge all day and thought writing would distract me.
> 
> I know this chapter is really short but I like where it is and how it really just deals with the direct aftermath of the night before. The next chapter will be much longer, I have no idea when it will be out though so yeah.... Is it too early for a drink? Cause I need a drink. And Pot.... and a Xanax.


	6. Chapter 6

Several days had passed since Robb’s first full moon. Dacey and Griffin were sitting outside of the cave when Myrcella returned from getting water. The pair were compiling a list of supplies they were in need of. When they had been in the mountains overlooking the large valley, the group had seen several villages scattered in the distance. With winter on the way the villages would be celebrating the harvest and autumn with markets and festivals. It would be easy for strangers to wander in and remain unnoticed. At least that’s what Dacey had said. With the turmoil and wars that had rocked the Seven Kingdoms who knew what could actually be waiting in the villages. For all Myrcella knew they might be like the hamlet that had been put to the sword by the Mountain and his men.

“Myrcella should come with us.” She heard Dacey state.

“Wait, what?” Myrcella set down her waterskins. Dacey turned to Myrcella.

“You heard me. You are going to come with Griffin and I.” Myrcella felt excitement bubble in her stomach.

“Are you sure that it should be me? What about Toby or Jay, or Petey?”

“Toby and Jay are too obvious. It’s clear they’re Northmen. Petey.” Dacey snorted and shook her head. “Petey is a sweet boy, but he can be a bit too troublesome. Robb obviously can’t go and neither can Greatjon, he can’t talk but he’s still a bit too noticeable. So that leaves you.”

“Well then when do we leave?” Myrcella asked excitedly. Her excitement was dimmed a short time later when Dacey informed the rest about their plans.

“Absolutely not.” Robb said firmly. “It’s too dangerous for Myrcella to go. Take Greatjon instead.” Greatjon nodded and thumped his chest in agreement.

“Because a giant mute Northman with the world’s worst temper, missing two and a half fingers is less noticeable than a tiny woman?” Greatjon glared down at Dacey, who met his glare just as fiercely before turning her back to him to stare down Robb.

“We’re not askin for your permission. And while I’m glad you’re finally gettin out of that head of yours Robb Stark. You said it yourself, you aren’t a king anymore. You don’t have the right to say where Myrcella can and can’t go.” There was a glint in Robb’s eyes that made Myrcella jump between the pair.

“Perhaps I should have a say!” Myrcella spoke calmly, pushing the pair apart before facing Robb. “I’m going.” She stated. “If you want to stop me then you’ll just have to tie me up. Except, you can’t because we have the shirts on our backs and very little else. You barely even have a shirt!” It was true, most of Robb’s clothing had become little more than rags since his transformation.

“Myrcella, do you remember how you were treated when you were captured outside Braavos? They way they talked about you, degraded you?” Robb asked, reaching out and gently grabbing her shoulder. Yes, Myrcella remembered every minute. The way the sailors would stare hungrily at her, the comments they had made to her about what they would do to her body if she wasn’t a valuable hostage to their King. Myrcella nodded. “You are a beautiful woman. Men will notice you and they could try and do to you what those sailors wanted to do.” Myrcella pushed Robb’s hand from her shoulder. Part of her appreciated his concern for her safety and the need to protect her, but it was unnecessary.

“I will never forget what I had to endure on that ship. But I was alone then, surrounded by my enemy. Now I’m surrounded by friends. I understand your fears, Robb, I do. I grew up in King’s Landing, I know the horrors of the world even if I’ve only experienced a few firsthand. Growing up in court, I had to learn how to be invisible. To be the silent princess that a person could forget was even in the room. Especially with the likes of Joffrey running around. I know how to be in the background and I’m good at it. I’m going with Dacey and Griffin. It will likely take us several days but we will return. You’ll just have to deal with it.” She said coldly before turning her back to Robb and walking to grab her satchel from the cave. Robb cursed under his breath and stomped off into the woods. He was still gone when the three of them left. Myrcella sighed and cursed the stubbornness of Northmen. 

They had ended up traveling farther into the valley than originally planned, having to stop in three small villages to get the supplies. It had been strange to be among other people once again, especially simple common folk. She had spent the last several moons with only the others, before that she had been surrounded by an army, and even before her time as a hostage she never had mingled with those below her station. No one in the villages gave her, Dacey, or Griffin a second look, putting to rest all of Robb’s concerns. Myrcella knew it was petty but she couldn’t wait to rub it in his face. They were just more faceless travelers, sure every so often a man or boy would give Myrcella a second look but nothing came of it.

An unexpected perk of being practically invisible was that they were able to listen to the gossip about what had been happening in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. Joffrey had indeed been murdered at his own wedding, supposedly by Tyrion Lannister and Sansa Stark who had also apparently been married recently. Sansa Stark had disappeared during the chaos leaving Tyrion to face his trial alone. The news made Myrcella’s head spin. She silently thanked the Old Gods and the New that she wasn’t in King’s Landing. Myrcella was currently wandering through the stalls of a small market in the village they were currently in. Soon they would begin the journey back to the cave. Griffin had gone to the village tavern and Dacey was bartering nearby for some grain. In this village unlike the others they had traveled to there were several artisans selling their wares, the Redfort lay several leagues south east so this particular village had a bit more trade than the others. Myrcella stopped at one particular vendor who was selling leather bound books and journals. Myrcella lifted one of the books flipping through the empty pages when another item caught her eye. A writing slate similar to the one she had used as a child to learn her letters. Her mind instantly went to the Greatjon. He needed an easier way to communicate with the lot of them that wasn’t just waving his arms around and everyone trying to guess what he had to say. Apparently, in Essos there was an entire language made up of hand-signs. Unfortunately, they had no one who knew the sign-language and the chances of meeting someone who did were rather bleak.

“How much for the slate and chalk?” Myrcella asked the merchant. He looked her up and down.

“Five silver stags.” He grunted. Myrcella stared at him. She only had one stag and a handful of coppers left.

“What about just the slate?”

“Then it’s three silver stags.” The merchant replied bluntly, staring at Myrcella. For a moment his eyes moved to her chest. “Or you can give me that necklace.” Myrcella reached up and grabbed her pendent. She hadn’t even realized it had fallen out of her shirt. It was certainly worth more than a writing slate and chalk. She had spent the past several days watching Griffin and Dacey barter. She could surely do it herself.

“It’s a family heirloom. I can’t part with it for just a writing slate.”

“Then it’s the three silver stags.”

“But I could part with it for say, the slate, some chalk and pencils, and the journal I was looking at. After all this is gold.” She said, pulling the necklace off her neck and letting it dangle before the merchant. He stared at her then the necklace, then back at Myrcella.

“Is that a lion on there?” He asked. Myrcella felt her heart studded for a moment and fought to keep her features blank.

“I don’t know. I always thought it was a Shadow Cat or something. I think it was a prize taken during the Blackfyre Rebellion, that’s what my Mum said anyway.” Myrcella drawled, trying to hide her anxiousness. The merchant still couldn’t take his eyes off the swinging pendent. Myrcella just wanted the man to agree to take the stupid thing and stop asking questions. Since she had found it in the fire after Maggy the Frogg’s home had vanished it felt off, like some of Maggy’s strange darkness clung to the necklace, it made Myrcella wish that she had left it in the embers. The comfort once found in the familiar weight was long gone. The merchant finally reached out and took the necklace.

“You got a deal lass.” Myrcella grinned as the man wrapped up the slate, journal, chalk, and pencils. He handed her the parcel and Myrcella tucked it in her bag.

“Pleasure doing business.” She stated before practically skipping off to find Dacey. Soon after, Dacey had the last of what they needed along with a fresh loaf of bread for the journey to the cave. It was still warm from the baker’s oven. Dacey held it up and Myrcella tore off a small piece.

“The baker’s wife kept staring so I told her I had to sell my hair to feed my family during the war before fleeing the Riverland’s. She started crying, the baker was embarrassed so he gave me it for free.” Myrcella took a bite and treasured the flakey goodness. “Worth the small deception I’d say.” Myrcella nodded in agreement. They met Griffin outside the small tavern at the edge of town. The only new piece of news he brought was that apparently Petyr Baelish had returned to the Vale and implemented more taxes. A bit of news that was not met with any enthusiasm. Apparently, the taxes were being raised at unfair rates for many of the small folk who would be left with next to nothing in their stores for the coming Winter. Many had protested but were ignored by the tax collectors from both the Eyrie and King’s Landing.

After hearing what Griffin had heard in the tavern, the trio set out for the journey back to the caves. The next day, Dacey, Griffin, and Myrcella were resting on the side of the road, eating the last of the bread Dacey had been given. The supplies they had purchased using the last of everyone’s combined coin lay packed beside them. Myrcella’s gift to Greatjon and the sketchbook were carefully nestled inside her satchel. Dacey hadn’t been too happy when Myrcella told her she had used her necklace to pay for the items. But Myrcella had assured her friend that the merchant had no clue as to the true nature of the necklace.

“I told him it was a trinket in the family since the Blackfyre rebellion. I even said I thought the lioness on it was a shadow cat. Besides, now the Greatjon will be able to communicate better.”

Voices from down the road quickly drew the trio’s attention, drawing Myrcella out of her thoughts. Myrcella quickly threw her hood back up as two riders trotted around the bend and stopped before them. It was obvious that the two riders were highborn, but they were trying to appear low born. The clothes on the leader looked worn, but if you looked close enough it was obvious that the materials were fine castle quality, the obvious castle forged sword that hung from his waist. The second rider, a page or a squire probably looked a bit more the part of a commoner. But not by much. There was something about the first rider that pawed at Myrcella’s memory. She knew him from somewhere.

“Good day fellow travelers.” The lead man said, swinging down from his horse, his eyes dancing over them before settling on Myrcella. Myrcella felt her skin crawl and pulled her cloak closer. This man was looking at her like she was a piece of meat. “Are you in need of any assistance?”

“Many thanks, Ser. But my daughters and I are only resting a bit before continuing our journey.” Griffin stated calmly using the story the three had come up with back at the caves before setting out, subtly moving in front of Myrcella trying to block his view. The man laughed and threw his cape over his shoulder, revealing the badge on his breast. Myrcella paled, she recognized the quartered shield bearing the sigil’s of house Aryn, house Waynwood, and the vassal house Hardyng. There was only one person this man could possibly be; Ser Harrold Hardyng, known as Harry the Heir to some and Harry the Arse to others. He was the unofficial heir to the Vale. Rumor had it he whored just as much as Robert Baratheon. The only times Myrcella had seen Ser Harrold before was during various tourneys in Kings Landing. That had been was she was still a little girl, unflowered. Surely he wouldn’t recognize her.

“Forgive me my good man. I didn’t realize that,” He pointed at Dacey, “Was a woman.” He laughed again. Dacey stiffened at her hand fell to where her axe rested under her cloak. “Your other girl though. I haven’t seen such a beauty in a long time.” He flashed a pearly white grin at Myrcella. If he expected Myrcella to swoon at him, this sorry excuse for a knight had another thing coming. “My companion and I are returning from the Redfort on business for the Lady Waynwood. You should accompany us back to the Eyrie. I’m sure we could find a position there for such a fair maid.” Oh, Myrcella could just guess what kind of position he had in mind. She was about to decline when Dacey stood abruptly.

“We’re going in the opposite direction. And I won’t have you touching my little sister, ser. She’s not one of your cheap whores”

“Teach your daughter so respect old man.” Ser Hardyng growled, his hand wrapping around the pommel of his sword. Griffin sighed and turned to Myrcella.

“You may want to run for cover.” Just as Dacey pulled her axe from behind her cloak and launched herself at the knight with a yell. Harold Hardyng was not expecting Dacey to be such a superior fighter. The lady of Bear Island and the knight fought viciously. The man’s squire fumbled for his own sword, falling off his horse in the process only to find Griffin’s sword at his neck.

“Now lad, don’t be doing anything stupid.” The older man stated calmly taking the squire’s sword and tossing it to the side. The young man looked ready to piss himself. In fact, it appeared that he did piss himself. Dacey cried out as Hardyng managed to kick her shin. Myrcella didn’t even think before grabbing a near by rock and hurling it with all her might at the knight’s head. The rock collided with a crack and the man buckled. Dacey pinned him, the blade of her axe pressed against his throat.

“Pathetic.” She growled. Before smashing the butt of the weapon into his forehead. Effectively knocking the heir apparent of the Vale unconscious.

After debating on what to do with the knight and his squire. The trio settled on releasing the horses and tying the two men to a tree. Someone would come along eventually and probably untie them. Hopefully, Myrcella, Dacey, and Griffin would be far way when that happened. Just to ensure a clean escape, they talked loudly about traveling to Gulltown.

“You bitch. Do you have any idea who I am?” Harold growled as Myrcella followed Dacey’s instructions to tighten the ropes. Myrcella glanced up.

“You are and arrogant, self-entitled fool who thinks he has some importance in this world because of the family you were born to and the fact that you have a cock between your legs. The knight narrowed his eyes at her.

“You’re no farmers daughter… No.. You are of noble blood. Your accent is from the Crownlands. I can hear it in your voice.” Myrcella paled, then glaring back at the knight she pulled his heavy coin purse from his belt. Then knelt down, removed his boots, and pulled off the man’s pants, leaving Ser Hardyng naked from the waist down save for his smallclothes.

“Thank you for the trousers and coin, they will be put to good use.” The man was turning an alarming shade of red. Myrcella couldn’t help but giggle as she ran to help Dacey gather the rest of their things.

“You’re actually taking the man’s pants?” Dacey asked incredulously.

“Yes. All his coin too.”

“Seven Hells.”

Dacey, Griffin, and Myrcella moved quickly through the woods. Doubling back every so often to make sure that no one was following. Someone must have found the trussed-up knight and squire by now. Finally, after crossing another freezing stream Griffin had them stop.

“They shouldn’t be able to track us now. Our trail will be too complicated.”

“We should still be careful getting back to the cave. Take a less direct route than the one we took to get down into the villages.” Dacey replied. Myrcella breathlessly collapsed against a tree.

“Why can’t things go bloody right for once and not end with us running?” She gasped, clutching her side. “Just once. No running, is that too much to ask?”

“Apparently.” Dacey groaned. “We best get moving.”

“I don’t suppose we could downplay that whole incident with Ser Hardyng?” Myrcella asked hopefully.

“Nope.” Griffin stated. “Especially not when you took his pants and coin.” Myrcella cursed.

“It was just bad luck. Nothing to worry about.” Dacey stated. “One incident in the days we’ve been gone. Besides that, prick will probably make up an outlandish story to avoid admitting he was beaten by a woman.”

Even moving at a fast pace, it took the trio three more days to make it back to the caves. When the familiar cliff face loomed above them Myrcella couldn’t help but sigh in relief. It was good to be back. Petey, Toby, Jay, and Greatjon were all sitting around the fire when they exited the tree line. For one heart stopping moment Myrcella thought that Robb had left, but then he was striding out of the cave towards them and Myrcella’s fear all but disappeared. Dacey stepped forward and shoved one of the packs of supplies at Robb. He caught it with ease.

“You were supposed to be back yesterday.” He stated. Ignoring the pack in his hands. “We were worried.” Robb looked over at Myrcella. From the fire someone, probably Jay, grumbled under his breath.

“He was the one that worried.” Robb shot the man a venomous look. Hearing what he had said loud and clear. Myrcella couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy at the thought of Robb being worried. He really was starting to come out of the shell that had formed when the witch had healed him.

“We had to go a bit farther then planned.” Dacey shrugged. “We had no problems in the villages, got all that we needed and more.” Myrcella moved past Dacey and Robb who continued to bicker. And took a seat by the fire next to Greatjon. Reaching into her satchel she pulled out the parcel containing the writing slate and unwrapped it holding it out to the giant Northman.

“I got this for you. So, you can communicate easier.” Greatjon looked at the slate then slowly reached and took it from her, Myrcella pulled the chalk pieces out too and handed them to him. Myrcella swore that the lord was looking a bit misty eyed. Then he turned and pulled Myrcella into a bone-crushing hug that pushed the air from her lungs.

“You’re welcome.” Myrcella wheezed when Greatjon finally released her. Dacey joined her on her other side, Robb sitting across from them as they all began to sort through what they had bought.

“So, no one noticed or recognized you. I’m sorry about what I said, I should have had more faith in you three.” Dacey and Griffin both turned to Myrcella looking at her expectantly.

“Why do I have to tell him?” Myrcella asked crossly.

“Because you’re the one who had to take trophy’s.” Griffin stated.

“What happened?” Robb’s voice was hard and that glint in his golden eyes was back. Myrcella fidgeted in her seat.

“Well… In the towns we had no trouble. On the way back on the roads we may have had a bit.” Myrcella hesitated a moment, then told the story about crossing paths with the knight. Robb was visibly pale when she ended her tale. Before he could say anything more Myrcella pulled the stolen pants and coins out and tossed them to him. “Let’s just say we were both right and leave everything at that and look, new pants!” Robb shut his eyes for a moment and sighed.

“I can’t stop you from going into the villages. I realize that, but promise me Myrcella, you’ll be more careful when on the roads.”

“It’s probably best if we stay away from the village outside the Redfort in the future anyway.” Griffin added, “Takes too long to travel their and it’s just too close to a Lord’s seat to take the risk anyway.”

“Griffin’s right. And I may have gone a bit too far in taking the man’s pants. But I don’t regret it. He was an utter ass.” Myrcella stated

“Oh, a complete ass. Just because my hair’s gone doesn’t mean I’m not a woman anymore.” Dacey growled, snapping a stick an tossing it into the fire. Greatjon slapped a hand to his knee, getting everyone’s attention, written on his new slate, messy and barely legible were the words, _both right, both wrong_. He was right, Robb and Myrcella had both been right and both had been wrong. It was in the past now. Myrcella looked over at Robb and once again found him staring at her. She blushed, and looked away ready to help the others begin to prepare dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go chapter 6. Hope everyone is staying healthy and following social distancing guidelines. I'm an essential worker so I haven’t been able to work on this as much as I have liked but I was finally able to finish this chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dacey and Myrcella bond and Myrcella learns a new skill.

It was surprising how fast time seemed to pass. Days turned to weeks as the small company adapted to their new home. Robb’s second full moon was soon upon them. Once again, Robb ventured out into the woods alone, the moon had risen in a cloudless sky and screams of agony filled the night. Once again, everyone else was plagued by a sleepless night. Only this time when the sun rose, Robb returned on his own. His clothes were in one piece, he must have removed them before he changed. He was filthy and exhausted, but in one piece. He simply collapsed on his bedroll slept for a bit before waking and going to wash in the spring. When he returned Myrcella was able to get him to drink some bone broth while the others questioned him about the transformation again. Robb was evasive in his answers. The same thing happened during the third full moon, and the fourth.

* * *

The rest of the time, life became routine. Griffin would often go hunting for game, one of the other men or Dacey would go with him, Myrcella went once. Griffin said she fidgeted too much. Every so often Griffin would take some of his kills to a small village half-a-day’s walk from the caves to trade for basic goods and to listen for gossip. In this isolated part of the Vale the latter seemed to be in short supply. Toby and Jay would often take Griffin’s kills and harvest the meat and other body parts that could become useful. A short way from the cave system entrance there was another much smaller cave, more of a hollow in the cliff face that the brother’s turned into their workspace, they even managed to rig a space to smoke the meat. Petey and Greatjon helped when they were not out hunting or collecting wood. Greatjon had taken Petey under his wing teaching the boy whatever he could. Robb was wherever he could help. His heightened senses made him an amazing tracker, his superior strength had him splitting logs with his bare hand. Dacey did whatever she wanted, often dragging Myrcella along with her, teaching the former princess how to forage for things like berries or edible roots, how to find good firewood and chop branches, teaching her how to track game, and set basic snares. Myrcella did whatever was asked of her, always willing to learn and never one to complain. Everyone worked hard, yet there were some days, rare days, where the autumn sun would shine and warm the air. It was just too nice to spend the day working away, on those days everyone would stay around the base. Simply relaxing, telling stories, and enjoying the shortening day. It was a far cry from the life she had once lived.

* * *

One day, Dacey and Myrcella were gathering wood in the forest. Dacey pointed at a dense patch of plants.

“Tell me what plant that is.” She stated. Myrcella knelt and examined the small fern.

“Is it hemlock?” Myrcella asked.

“Why do you think it’s hemlock?” Dacey was smirking now, she always enjoyed testing Myrcella’s growing knowledge.

“The small purple spots on the stem.”

“Correct.” Myrcella got up and brushed the dirt from her knees.

“Anything else?” Dacey shrugged.

“I’ll think of something.”

“You learned all of this stuff on Bear Island didn’t you?” Myrcella asked. She knew Bear Island was incredibly isolated in the North and everyone had to share the workload needed to survive in such a hostile environment.

“Aye, my mother taught me everything I know. Before my uncle Jeor went to the Nights Watch he would sometimes teach me too. There are no gender roles there, it’s a hard place that breeds hard people.”

“You must miss it.”

“Aye, I do. I miss helping around the Keep, traveling to the villages on the island, spending time with my people.” Dacey pause and ran a hand through her shorn hair, staring off into the distance. “When Robb called the banners my mother and I had just started teaching my baby sister, Lyanna, all of this. She’ll be the Lady of Bear Island now, not even ten namedays and she has to rule over the entire island.” Myrcella stepped up and hugged her friend.

“If your little sister is anything like you she’ll be a wonderful leader.” Dacey sniffed.

“It isn’t fair to her. One of us my, mother or I should have stayed, then Lyanna would still have family there with her.” Myrcella let go of Dacey and the two continued walking until they came to a particularly sunny spot and sat down. Myrcella hesitated before speaking again. Dacey had never spoken of her father or what his role on Bear Island was since it was her mother, Maege, who was the liege lady after Jeor Mormont took the Black after his son’s disgrace. Surely it couldn’t hurt to ask especially after so many moons together.

“What about your father?” Dacey snorted.

“Never met him.” Myrcella paled and began to apologize for making such a private assumption when Dacey stopped her. “Life is very different on Bear Island, even different from the rest of the North itself. Sometimes the Wildlings or Free Folk as they like to call themselves would come and do trade with us, sometimes they raided it just depended on the tribe. It’s a rocky relationship but necessary when you’ve got to fight against nature itself to survive. Anyway, my mum met some wildling bloke, Gormun or Ormun or something like that. I don’t know if he was there to steal and pillage or if he was there to do actual somewhat civilized trade. They fucked, he left, nine moon turns later I came screaming into the world, Mum declared me a Mormont and that was that. He came back years later squirted my sister into Mum and left again.” Dacey stated. She looked over at Myrcella and frowned. “What’s with your face.” Myrcella was grimacing.

“That word I think it’s gross.”

“What?”

Myrcella grimaced and shivered slightly.

“Squirt.” Myrcella didn’t know why but she just didn’t like the word squirt. Dacey stared at her, then burst out laughing. Myrcella couldn’t help but laugh too. She playfully shoved Dacey, who toppled into a pile of leaves.

“Squirt!” She shouted clutching her sides. Myrcella buried her face in her hands and waited for Dacey to stop laughing at her. Finally, Dacey’s laughter died down and she wiped her eyes and turned to Myrcella and grimaced.

“Moist.”

“What?” Myrcella asked.

“That’s the one word I can’t bloody stand. Moist.” Now it was Myrcella’s turn to lose it.

Their laughter died down and Dacey grew quiet. The two women simply enjoying the peace of the forest. After a while Dacey turned back to Myrcella.

“What was Robert Baratheon like?” She asked out of the blue, Dacey had told her about her sire, Myrcella didn’t mind sharing about the man she had use to believe was her’s. Myrcella leaned back against the tree sighing heavily. What had Robert Baratheon been like? He was a whoremonger, a drunk, he was an horrible husband and absent father. A sad, sad man who was lost in his own past. But, Myrcella still held love for him in her heart.

“I was his favorite out of my brothers and I.” Myrcella finally said. “He always paid the most attention to me, but even then that was a rare thing. I guess he either saw me as a political tool or he liked to imagine that I was what his daughters with Lyanna Stark would have been like. He lived in the past and I think that’s what decided his fate in the end.” Myrcella found herself lost in memories she had long pushed to the back of her mind. Thinking about Robert Baratheon, sometimes it hurt and sometimes it didn’t. “Thinking about him. It’s… difficult. When I was about four name days old, he once spent an entire afternoon hiding in the Godswood of the Red Keep making mud pies with me. But he was also a man who would strike my mother and dishonor her daily.”

“That sounds…” Dacey trailed off.

“Confusing.” Myrcella stated. “As a child it was confusing. Now… it’s… it is what it is. The past cannot be changed all I can do is look back with the wisdom of a woman grown. I think I will always love Robert Baratheon but I know his faults and I will never excuse them.”

“Would you forgive them?”

Myrcella shrugged.

“I don’t think so.”

“I don’t think you should.” Dacey replied. Myrcella nodded. Emotion welled in the back of her throat and her eyes began to sting with unshed tears. She blinked rapidly and turned to Dacey.

“We should probably head back.” Dacey nodded, understanding Myrcella was at her limit.

“We should, who knows what trouble the others have gotten into.” They walked back to the camp mostly in silence when Dacey grabbed Myrcella’s elbow and stopped her.

“Squirt.” She said. Myrcella stared back at her.

“Moist.” The two dissolved once again into a fit of giggles.

* * *

Several days later, Myrcella was sitting with Griffin at the cave watching him oil his bow. Recently he had befriended a widow from the nearby village by the name of Cass. She had given him her late husband’s bow with the promise that she would get first picks on anything Griffin brought to the isolated village. Griffin seemed more than happy to make the deal. The others had taken the piss out on him and his new lady friend. Griffin had claimed it was nothing but Myrcella had sworn that the older man had blushed when he spoke of miss Cass. Even now as he tended to the new bow he seemed to handle it with much more care than the old one. As Myrcella watched him work an idea struck her.

“Griffin?” The older man hummed in response, not taking his eyes from his work. “I think I would like to learn how to shoot.” Now Griffin looked up at her with a raised brow.

“Really?” Myrcella nodded.

“Dacey taught me how to use my dagger. Perhaps it would be wise for me to learn how to use a bow as well.” Griffin was silent for a minute then seemed to see something behind her and smiled.

“Well Myrcella, I not much the teaching type, but perhaps his Grace here can give you a few lessons.” He nodded behind her, Myrcella turned to find Robb stepping out of the cave. Robb frowned at the two of them, confused.

“What?” He asked.

“King Robb, the princess would like you to teach her how to shoot a bow.” Robb glanced between Myrcella and Griffin, Myrcella felt her cheeks begin to heat when Robb shrugged.

“I suppose. I helped teach my younger brother, Bran, after all.” Griffin grinned.

“Excellent.” Then he picked up his old bow and tossed it to Myrcella, who fumbled to catch it.

That was how Myrcella found herself where she currently was standing with Robb in the clearing outside the cave, using a grove of trees at the edge as her target. Robb had just finished showing her how to string the bow.

Robb handed her the weapon, then gently took Myrcella by the shoulders.

“You need to keep your feet shoulder-width apart. Create a solid stance, while keeping your core strong, it’s going to be the center of your strength, not your arms.” He slid his hands down to Myrcella’s waist. Her heart rate sped up. Robb stepped up behind her, her back pressed against his chest. His body radiating warmth that seemed to calm her racing heart. “Focus on your breathing.” Robb stated, “You’ll want to hold your breath when you pull back, don’t.” He released her waist and placed his hands over hers on the bow. He guided her hands, raising the bow and pulling back the string of the bow. “In and out, don’t spend too much time aiming.” Robb stepped back and Myrcella released the string. The arrow sailed through the air, yet Myrcella wasn’t paying attention to where it went she was too consumed at the loss of Robb’s heat. Myrcella hadn’t realized that she had shut her eyes until Robb spoke. He seemed unaware of the effect he had on her.

“Good first shot,” Robb was walking over to the tree she had been aiming at. She had missed the tree; the arrow was laying in the dirt several yards to the left. “You missed. But you weren’t as bad as Bran was when he started learning.”

“Really?” Robb grinned at her with that handsome, smile that made her weak at the knees.

“Aye. He shot his first arrow so wide it somehow managed to hit the side of the stables right next to where several horses were getting shoed don’t know who was more spooked the horses or the blacksmith. Father made us move the target to the outer courtyard after that.” He handed her the arrow. “Try again.” Myrcella resumed the position Robb had shown her, aware of how he stood several paces behind her, watching her. It was much easier to concentrate without him holding her. Myrcella took a deep breath and fixed her stance, raising the bow she tried to focus on her breathing, she drew back the string, the fletching from the arrow brushing her cheek, inhale, exhale and release. The arrow flew through the air and embedded into one of the branches of the tree next to the one she had been aiming at. Myrcella lowered the bow and turned back to Robb, he walked up to her and reached out brushing his thumb across her cheek. Myrcella felt like her heart was about to stop and when had it gotten so warm? Robb drew back his hand and Myrcella’s eyes widened at the streak of crimson on his thumb. She reached up and touched her cheek, feeling the small cut that lazily bled.

“A common injury, from the fletching. I did that to myself several times when I was learning.” Robb nodded at the tree, “Get the arrow and try again.” Myrcella nodded and turned to fetch the arrow only for Robb to stop her, he pulled on the edge of his sleeve and wiped the blood from her now throbbing cheek again. “You’re doing really well Ella.” Myrcella couldn’t help but grin up at him.

“Thank you Robb.” A scoff came from behind them, Myrcella and Robb turned to find everyone sitting around the campfire watching the two ex-nobles with amusement. Robb rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you lot have things to do?” Robb growled at them. Greatjon lifted up his chalkboard, _Nope._ Was written in large blocky letter. Petey and Jay snickered again, something was clearly amusing them but before Myrcella could ask what was so funny, Dacey dragged the two up by their collars.

“Thank you both for volunteering to help me check my snares.” And then she was forcing the two into the woods in the opposite direction from where Myrcella was practicing. Robb shot another glare at the remaining men who all suddenly found other things to do. Myrcella smiled up at Robb again before running to retrieve the arrow.

Robb watched her as she went and felt the wolf within him stir. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the thing. Instead trying to focus on Myrcella and her practice instead, yet it didn’t work and he remained constantly aware of the thing moving under his skin and inside his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute since I updated. But I've been working nonstop and just didn't really have time. The moist/squirt scene is based on an actual conversation I have had with friends before. Griffin has a crush and plays matchmaker for Myrcella and Robb, got to love it. Hope y'all stay healthy remember to social distance and wear masks in public!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrcella makes a slightly questionable decision.

Myrcella stared at the entrance of the caves, Robb had walked out and vanished into the forest nearly half an hour ago. The others were going about their business preparing for a sleepless night listening to Robb’s screams before the howling would take over. This would be his eighth full moon, his eighth transformation. No one stayed up in the main cavern anymore, everyone save for Myrcella would trickle away to their sleeping pallets spread throughout the cave system after Robb set off into the night. During the last full moon Myrcella had tried to go to her own pallet in the small chamber she had claimed for herself. In less than ten minutes she was wandering through the caves, the only light coming from the candle she carried, finally, she once again stumbled into the cave with the paintings, they all tended to avoid that particular chamber it felt strange there, a sort of quiet yet sinister serenity that made the hairs on the back of one’s neck stand on end. It felt like the strange glen where they had found Maggy the Frogg. Myrcella had just looked up at the painting of the dragons and the figure with the birds when a mysterious wind whistled through the cavern extinguishing her candle. Suddenly it was like the entire mountain was pushing down on her, suffocating her. Myrcella couldn’t breathe. She dropped the candle and ran blindly through the caves. At one point someone, Toby or Jay, called out to her as she ran past. Myrcella didn’t stop until she reached the entrance, just in time for a loud howl to pierce the night and cut through the panic that had gripped her. Myrcella stood there on the edge, the night breeze cooling her hot skin and soothing the residual panic, listening to the Wolf howl all night. She had stayed there till Robb limped back in the morning.

Now a moon turn later and Myrcella felt that restlessness that made her decide to seek out the cave paintings again. But this time she had no plan on venturing into the caves.

No one would notice if she slipped out, at least she hoped they wouldn’t. Before she could talk herself out of it, Myrcella was out of the cave and into the forest. Robb went to a small meadow about a mile away from the base of the caves to transform. It was dangerous and stupid, and reckless, and foolish, and stupid. Had she already said stupid? Myrcella forced herself to ignore that stupid little voice in her head, continuing her journey into the unforgiving woods. Myrcella reached the edge of the clearing at last. Robb stood with his back facing her, completely naked. His clothes lay in a pile behind him. He was just standing there staring up at the clouds that currently covered the rising moon. Myrcella hid behind a tree, trying to figure out her next step. Should she announce herself or stay hidden, while debating Myrcella failed to notice the wind shift.

Robb stood naked in the clearing anxiously staring up at the rising moon. Any moment now it would start, the evening breeze danced across his skin causing him to shiver. Robb didn’t feel the cold that much but before his transformations he felt raw, like an open wound. He tried to block out everything around him, the breeze, the sounds of the various creatures hidden in the underbrush, trying to focus only on his own breathing, in and out, in and out as he uselessly tried to calm his racing heart. He almost didn’t notice the subtle scent in the air, lavender and rosemary, or the crack of a twig under a booted foot, almost. His hot blood turned to ice in his veins while somehow his heart began to beat even faster. It, the Wolf began to stir under his skin, ready to break through. He turned in the direction of her scent.

“Myrcella.”

Myrcella stepped out of the shadows into the clearing. Robb’s golden eyes flashed.

“Myrcella leave now.” Myrcella shook her head.

“No. I’m not leaving you. I won’t,” She paused, “I can’t. Every moon turn I listen to your screams, we can all hear them all the way back at the cave!”

“I could hurt you, kill you, or worse if, what that fucking witch said was true, turn you into this thing with me!” There was pure panic in those haunting golden eyes, the ones that had once been an equally haunting blue. Robb was terrified, the Wolf had gone still, it was about to happen. Robb fell to his knees. Once upon a time he had been the first-born son of a Lord Paramount, then a King himself. Back then he never begged, he had been an arrogant ruler who gave orders and expected them to be followed. Then he was betrayed, he lost his war, his kingdom, his family, friends, and allies. People died brutal deaths because of him. Now he was a man, barely a man, barely a human, begging this woman he cared about, one of the few people he had left, to run before he became the monster that hid under his skin. Because if that thing, that horrible wolf hurt her, killed her, he would not, could not live with his guilt. He already felt like he was drowning in it every day.

“Myrcella I am begging you, run. Please just run!” 

“No.” She whispered softly, yet to Robb it felt like she had screamed it at the top of her lungs. The wolf froze inside of him, then it surged forward and consumed him.

A deafening crack came from Robb’s back and he doubled over screaming as his spine broke itself and began to realign. It sounded bad from the cave, but gods this was so much worse. Myrcella rushed forward, as Robb’s bones began to break and shift under his skin. He curled into himself the muscles in his back shifting and shaking. She froze in horror as his nails sharpened into claws, digging into his flesh like he was trying to tear himself apart. Clumps of grey fur started growing all over. He screamed again, his back arching grotesquely as his jaw dislocated itself and his canines elongated further, and the rest of his teeth sharpened, his face growing longer. She heard shouts from behind her. Greatjon and Dacey soon broke into the clearing. Both slid to a stop, looking terrified as their king transformed. Then the screams stopped, and howls and growls took its place. Robb was gone and where he once lay was a wolf, bigger than anything she had seen. It growled, and staggered to its’ feet, golden eyes glaring at the trio, showing no recognition towards any of them. Then Robb, because it was still Robb, she had seen Robb turn into this beast, charged her at supernatural speeds. Myrcella fell back and shut her eyes waiting for the end to come. But it never did, she cracked one eye open. The wolf that was Robb was mere inches from her face. He moved closer and sniffed at her, something akin to recognition flashed in his eyes, then Robb bared his teeth, turned and ran off into the woods. Myrcella exhaled slowly, staring in the direction Robb had disappeared to. She was alive. She was alive and in one piece.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Dacey was suddenly kneeling next to her then roughly pulling Myrcella to her feet.

“I have no idea…” Myrcella stated calmly shrugging free of Dacey’s grasp. Turning she knelt down and grabbed Robb’s discarded clothing and began to separate and fold the various articles. Someone poked her back, Myrcella turned to find Greatjon gesturing wildly, apparently he had left his writing tablet in the cave in his rush to get to Myrcella. He was most likely asking if she had a death wish or something. She was pretty sure he called her an idiot.

“I just couldn’t stand him suffering alone anymore. I care about Robb greatly. I- Myrcella cut herself off before she could reveal anything more. She rolled her shoulders back, sat, and crossed her legs as primly as she could. “He recognized me. The Wolf recognized me. They are one and the same. I won’t let him suffer alone.” Myrcella stalwartly refused to meet either Dacey or the Greatjon’s gaze. “I am going to wait here for Robb to come back.” She said primly. “Either join me or go back to the caves.” Dacey threw up her hands

“You’re bloody insane.” Then she turned and stalked back into the woods. Greatjon however, patted Myrcella’s head in a strangely grandfatherly fashion and ambled after the Lady of Bear Island. Myrcella exhaled slowly and clutched Robb’s clothes to her chest. Burying her nose in his shirt she inhaled slowly. They smelled like him, Pine and leather. Myrcella closed her eyes and just sat there, in the clearing waiting for the sun to rise and for Robb to return to her.

* * *

Hours passed as Myrcella held her vigil, waiting for Robb to return. She may have dozed off at one point only to jolt awake at the sound of distant howls. Was that Robb, or were there regular wolves in these woods too? Finally, the night began to fade. She couldn’t see the horizon from where she sat in the clearing, her legs were stiff from sitting all night and sleep tugged at her conscious. A noise from the forest had her looking away from the lightening sky just in time to see Robb step out of the tree line. He was covered in dirt and blood and seven knows what else; his hair was a matted mess and he looked more exhausted than she felt. When his tired eyes saw her sitting in the clearing, he visibly stiffened.

“Morning.” Myrcella mumbled. She looked down at her lap and held out the clothes Robb had left last night that she had neatly folded and clutched to her all night. Robb hesitated for a moment, then walked forward and took the clothes. Myrcella kept her eyes focused on her lap, trying to give Robb just a hint of privacy. She listened as the fabric rustled as he pulled on the pants and tunic. Once dressed he sat down next to her. Myrcella watched out of the corner of her eyes as he buried his face in his hands. Maybe he was too exhausted to yell at her. They sat quietly for a bit before Robb finally looked over at her. Anger flashing in his eyes.

“Why in the seven hells did you come out here last night?” Myrcella suddenly remembered that day she was presented to him at Riverrun, the cold anger at her treatment by her captors, his harsh punishment. Now it felt like that cold fury was directed at her. Suddenly, tears prickled at her eyes. She tried to blink them away.

“I- her voice got caught in her throat. “I was worried about you.” She finally said softly. “I always worry about you when the full moon come.” She felt a tear slowly role down her cheek. She prayed that Robb somehow wouldn’t notice. She finally turned to face him and felt the full weight and intensity of his gaze. It softened slightly at the sight of tears running down her pale cheeks. “I just, I just couldn’t bear the thought of you going through that alone. You shouldn’t suffer our foolishness alone. Moon turn after moon turn.” Robb looked away and ran a hand through his hair. Myrcella uncrossed her stiff, cold legs and pulled them to her chest resting her chin on her knees.

“What you did was incredibly stupid.” Robb bit out, he turned back to her once again piercing her very soul with that golden stare. “I could have killed you Ella.” That last part he said softly. Almost like he was afraid.

“But you didn’t.” She replied just as softly. “In fact, you recognized me.” Robb shifted uncomfortably, he hated thinking about the Wolf and him being one and the same. The wolf was a monster, it was always there trying to invade his mind, waiting for that moment when it could take control, it was malignant, pure and simple and he could never accept it. Because if he did, if he admitted that the malignant Wolf within him was the same as he was then, he was a monster just like the wolf. He couldn’t burden Myrcella with that.

“That’s…” He trailed off.

“You think you’re a monster, don’t you?” She asked, finally saying what Robb had been struggling with since he had woken in the witch’s hut all those moons ago. Robb swallowed and suddenly found himself looking anywhere but at Myrcella. How was this brilliant, and brave young woman able to put into words that which he was terrified to admit to himself. “You are not a monster. You are still in there. Last night you stopped yourself from hurting me. I looked into your eyes and I saw you, Robb Stark. Not some monster wolf-man or whatever it is you think you are.”

“Myrcella.” Robb choked out running a hand through his matted blood-stained hair. Tears welling in his golden eyes. Myrcella saw the conflict, the pain. So, she did the only thing she could think of. Ignoring the blood and gore that covered his mouth she gently, pressed her lips to his. Robb went rigid, she leaned back slightly taking a quick breath,

“I don’t think you are a monster.” She whispered. “None of us do. I will do whatever it takes to prove that to you Robb Stark.” She whispered into his ear, heat pooling inside her and kissed him again. Ignoring the coppery taste, soon Robb relaxed and started kissing her back. Myrcella had only ever kissed one other man, a boy really. A page in the Red Keep shortly before her ill-fated trip to Dorne for a betrothal that would never come to pass, it had been an awkward and fumbled affair of bumped noses and teeth, she had simply wanted to know what a kiss was like. This was nothing like that awkward moment in an empty corridor, behind a musty tapestry. This was full of emotions, too many for Myrcella to name, of belonging, of something more than lust. It felt right, it felt good, no, it felt perfect. Myrcella fisted her hands in Robb’s tunic as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. His other hand buried itself in her hair, Myrcella released a breathy sigh as she sank into him. The world seemed to disappear around them, Robb finally pulled back and rested his forehead against Myrcella’s. His breathing was ragged, Myrcella hadn’t even realized that she had closed her eyes until she opened them, meeting Robb’s intense golden gaze. Silent tears were running down his face leaving tracks in the grime that covered him. She felt her own tears running down as well. What a pair they made.

“Ella.” Her name sounded like the sweetest song coming from his lips.

“Robb.” She half sobbed; half whispered back. Closing her eyes once more, she sank into Robb’s warm embrace, burying her face in his neck. Holding him as tightly as she could. Nothing else mattered right now. It was just Robb and her. Myrcella didn’t know how long they sat intertwined together when Robb gently pushed Myrcella off his lap.

“We should get back to the others.” He frowned, “I remember Dacey and the Greatjon, then everything got…” He trailed off; it was always so hard to describe his time turned. Myrcella groaned, and fell back into the grass.

“Dacey’s going to bloody kill me.” Robb couldn’t help but chuckle sometimes it was hard to believe that this woman was once a princess of the Seven Kingdoms. Well she still technically was a princess, a missing princess, probably presumed dead. Myrcella pushed herself off the grass and stood up. Turning to walk back towards the caves, the morning sun shone down on the pair turning the Myrcella’s hair into a golden halo, she turned and smiled at him with those gorgeous green-brown eyes. Robb couldn’t help it, his hand shot out and grasped Myrcella’s wrist turning her and pulling her back to him. He leaned down and kissed her again. Stepping back, he looked down at her, his Ella. He couldn’t help but think. She smiled again and his heart filled with a warmth that he had thought was lost to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life guys, just life. Is 2020 over yet? Stay healthy, if you're in California or Oregon stay safe, everyone wear your masks!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get sorta heated....

They walked back to the caves slowly, hand in hand Myrcella felt like she was walking on air. The feeling evaporated when they entered the cave’s clearing and found Toby, Griffin, Jay, Petey, and Greatjon sitting around the fire. Dacey was nowhere in sight. Greatjon stood, glaring at the two of them before his gaze settled on their intertwined hand slowly his frown turned into a mischievous grin and he held up his writing tablet written in big block letters was a single word **FINALLY!** The others around the fire burst into laughter and Myrcella felt her cheeks begin to burn glancing over at Robb she swore he was blushing as well. The merry laughter died as Dacey emerged from the cave, her face completely void of any emotion. Myrcella’s heart began to sink. Dacey pointed at Myrcella.

“You. Come with me.” Her tone left no argument and Myrcella hesitantly let go of Robb to follow the older woman back into the caves. Dacey didn’t speak as Myrcella followed her deeper and deeper into the cave system until they reached the cavern with the painting. When Dacey turned grabbed Myrcella by her elbow.

“What the fuck were you thinking last night?” She practically roared. Myrcella winced. “How could you be so fucking stupid as to go after him? You know what he becomes you’ve seen the damage he can do. That fucking monster he becomes!” Once again tears began to burn the corners of her eyes. “Bloody say something!” Myrcella yanked herself from Dacey’s grip.

“Stop yelling at me!” she screamed back “And don’t you ever fucking call Robb a monster.” She growled, anger the likes of which she had hardly ever felt suddenly coursing through her veins. Dacey took a small step back, Myrcella wiped her eyes. No more crying. She thought to herself.

“You saw-“

“Shut up!” She shoved Dacey; the other woman stumbled back. “Yes, I saw! Trust me I bloody well saw! And it’s because of you, me, and Greatjon and that accursed witch that Robb’s like that.” Her anger was an inferno now, “Ever since that first damned moon we abandon Robb to suffer that curse alone. To suffer every bone in is body breaking again and again. To lose his mind, to lose control to something I cannot even begin to comprehend and then put himself together again the morning after. It hurts my very soul. He thinks himself a monster I won’t let that become true.

“Your feelings for Robb are blinding you then!” Dacey shot back. “He almost killed you.”

“But he didn’t!” Myrcella yelled back. “He stopped himself! A part of that wolf was still Robb, he recognized me and he stopped!”

“Then why does he recognize you? Why not Greatjon, why not me? We’ve been by his side since the beginning.” The fiery anger disappeared as quickly as it had come at the hurt and sadness in Dacey’s voice. Why did the Wolf only react to her, and not Robb’s oldest allies. Suddenly Myrcella felt exhausted and sank to the ground burying her face in her hands. Dacey silently sat down next to her.

“I don’t…” She trailed off. “I really don’t know.” The two women sat in the darkness for what seemed to be an eternity. Before Dacey spoke.

“I’m sorry.” Myrcella turned to her, “I was scared, and worried, and I lost my temper and took it out on you. You are right. Robb isn’t a monster, but seeing that last night… it terrified me because it was a reminder that all of this is true. And if a man can be cursed to turn into a wolf by the light of the moon, then, then what else might be out there?”

* * *

By the time Dacey and Myrcella emerged from the caves, the others had all started going about their business for the day, only Robb remained near the fire. Myrcella placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Go clean up and rest, everything is fine.” Robb looked over at where Dacey sat, worried.

“Are you sure?” Myrcella smiled kindly.

“Yes. Dacey is done lecturing me.” After Robb left, Myrcella went about preparing their breakfast, porridge and dried apples. By the time Robb returned, she had finished off her own bowl and was sitting next to the drawing in her sketchbook, she used it sparingly, but, today she just felt the need to draw. He grabbed his bowl and sank down next to her, without a word, their shoulders brushing together.

When he was finished he put the bowl aside and wrapped an arm around Myrcella’s shoulders, Myrcella’s eyes slid shut as she relaxed in the embrace. Soon the pair drifted off to sleep in the cool glow of the Autumn sun.

* * *

Robb and Myrcella’s relationship changed little at their camp. There was a fair bit of teasing about ‘taming the wolf’ as Toby often said. Jay had swiftly cuffed his brother’s ear and told him to let them be. Often the young couple would sit out late into the night wrapped in Robb’s cloak talking, telling stories from their childhoods and truly for the first time opening up to each other like they had in the Riverrun Gods Wood all those moons ago. When the next full moon came. Robb pulled her aside as the sun began to set. Which was beginning to happen earlier in the day. Another reminder that winter was creeping closer.

“What can I say to convince you not to come with me tonight?” He asked.

“Nothing. I’m coming with you.” Myrcella tried to brush past him but Robb placed both hands firmly on her shoulders. Forcing her to look at him.

“Myrcella, I cannot begin to describe how grateful I am that you are willing to stay by my side. The thing inside me, the Wolf, it calms when you are nearby; but I don’t trust it.”

“Robb-“

“Myrcella please.” Robb cut her off. “Let me speak. His hands slid down her shoulders until they grasped her hands. “If you must come with me promise me that before my change starts you’ll return to the caves.” Something in Myrcella told her that this was a battle she could not win. She huffed and squeezed his hands.

“Fine. But I’ll be out there as soon as the sun begins to rise.” Myrcella went with Robb into the woods, as they left camp Toby tried to make another joke only for Dacey to give him a swift kick in the rear to shut him up. They reached the clearing Robb favored and waited for the moon to rise. Soon darkness fell, Robb turned to her.

“Time for you to leave.” He said softly.

“At least let me take your clothes with me so they’ll be nice and dry in the morning.” Robb smiled at her; it didn’t reach his golden eyes. He then pulled her in for a sweet kiss and stepped back pulling off his tunic and handing it to her before beginning to unlace his trousers. Myrcella felt her cheeks heat and a twinge in her core, she quickly turned to give him privacy. While sometimes their kisses became quite heated they had never progressed into anything more intimate. Part of her wanted to go further, but another part was scared to take the plunge. A hand touched her shoulder, brushing a stray curl to the side. Myrcella jumped and turned back to Robb, careful not to look down. Robb handed her his wadded-up pants and suddenly all Myrcella could think was how after all this time he still couldn’t properly fold his clothes.

“It’s really time for you to leave now.” It was almost a plea. Robb could feel the moon rising, the Wolf could feel it. Myrcella took the last of his clothes.

“I’ll see you at dawn.” Myrcella turned to leave, but stopped. She turned back, “Robb, One last thing.”

“What?” He asked. Myrcella leaned up and pulled Robb down for one last kiss. Robb grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. Heat radiated from his body, and all Myrcella wanted to do was get lost in it. But she forced herself to pull back and looked up at Robb.

“Tomorrow I’m going to teach you how to fold your own clothes.” She stated. It was easy, Petey had taught her how. Robb couldn’t help but laugh as Myrcella grinned up at him. The moment didn’t last, however. The Wolf was done waiting and the moon was rising. With a deafening snap, his spine broke and began to realign Robb screamed and collapsed. Myrcella stumbled back. Robb curled in on himself as something else broke within him.

“Go.” He gasped and Myrcella forced herself out of the clearing. Robb’s screams chasing after her.

The next morning Myrcella left the caves just before dawn, bringing Robb’s clothes along with a water skin and some hardtack. She reached the clearing just as the sun began to color the sky in the east. She settled down against a tree and wrapped her cloak tighter trying to stave off the morning chill and nibbled at her own biscuit. Eventually the sun rose and Robb appeared. This time Myrcella didn’t avert her eyes, her cheeks still felt flush as she took all of Robb in. He really was very handsome, lean, with chiseled, well defined muscles. In fact, all of him was rather proportionate. Myrcella began to feel that knot of arousal in her core, shifting in her seat she took another bite of the hardtack as Robb collapsed next to her.

“I told you I’d be waiting.” She said handing Robb the water skin and his clothes. Robb rinsed his mouth and then took a long drink from the skin before turning to his clothes.

“ I knew you would.” He paused. “The wolf stalked you from the cave.” He said darkly. A frown marring his fine features.

Myrcella felt a shiver run up her spine. She’d had no idea she was being followed on her way here.

“What were you doing?” She asked hesitantly.

“IT.” Robb bit out, there it was again, Robb separating himself from the beast within him. “It was just watching you.”

“Did it want to hurt me?” Myrcella already knew the answer even before Robb shook his head. The wolf would never hurt her. “Robb do you think you and the wolf-“ Robb cut her off and stood abruptly.

“I’m tired Myrcella, lets return to the cave.

Myrcella grumbled under her breath but stood to follow Robb. They would talk about him and the Wolf at some point, in depth, whether Robb liked it or not. Myrcella had a feeling, if Robb stopped separating himself from the thing inside him, he would be able to control the curse, just like Maggy said.

For the next several days Robb was distant, not just with her but with the others too. Myrcella feared that he was trying to cut himself off again. Clearly, the wolf stalking her had shaken Robb. It was with that in mind that she pulled Robb into the small cavern she had made hers.

“Robb, what is wrong?” She questioned. Gripping his arms tightly. “You’ve been distant again.” Robb looked pained before hanging his head.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He whispered. Myrcella smiled sadly and cupped his face with her hands, gently running her fingers across his stubbled jaw.

“You won’t hurt me.” She paused. “It won’t hurt me either. I think deep down you know that too.” Robb shut his eyes and leaned into her soft touch. He didn’t deny it. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his. Leaning back, she saw Robb open his eyes something flashed in their depths. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him. This time their lips crashed together. Myrcella buried her hands in his hair. Her heart racing as their tongues battled for dominance. Heat once again was rushing to her core. Robb’s hand’s traveled from her waist down to her behind. He lifted her easily, Myrcella wrapped her legs around his waist, her core rubbing deliciously against the hardening arousal in Robb’s pants. Then, they were on her bedroll. Robb began trailing kisses from her cheek down to her neck. Myrcella closed her eyes, lost in all the sensations. One of Robb’s hands was pushing her tunic up while the other played with the ties of her trousers when suddenly: 

“Ouch!” Myrcella gasped as a sharp pain blossomed in her neck. Robb shoved himself away from her in the blink of an eye he was on the other side of the cave; looking at her horrified. Myrcella reached up to her neck and felt the warm stickiness of blood slowly dripping from a cut made by Robb’s sharp canines.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Robb muttered. “The Wolf…” Panic was starting to grip him. Myrcella raised her hands.

“Robb it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s just some blood and a small cut.” Myrcella said trying to calm him.

“No, I shouldn’t have done that to you Myrcella. I, I lost control. I need to go.”

“Wait, Robb!” But he was already gone. Myrcella looked around her small cave chamber.

“Fuck!” she yelled before collapsing onto her bedroll.

Myrcella decided to pretend that the whole affair hadn’t happened. That Robb hadn’t left her so very unsatisfied and so very wanting. She had ended up taking her own release, but after Robb. It was less than what she wanted. It didn’t help that Robb went right back to staying away from her. It hurt, it hurt a lot. So Myrcella decided there was only one other person she could go to for help with Robb.

“What do you know about sex?” Dacey, who had been taking a drink from her water skin, choked and spluttered at Myrcella’s rather unexpected question. Gasping she clutched at her chest and stared incredulously at her friend.

“What did you just say?” Myrcella suddenly looked rather embarrassed, her cheeks coloring.

“I want to learn… about… coupling…”

“Didn’t you have a Septa or something to teach you this back in the Red Keep?”

“My mother actually.” Myrcella paused. “And in hindsight she probably wasn’t the best person to tell me about it.”

“Considering she hated her husband and carried out an illicit affair with her twin brother producing you and your brothers, then yes, she’s probably not the one you want to teach you about sex.” Dacey stated. “What exactly did she tell you?”

“That a woman’s power lays between her legs. Men only want one thing and that is their own release, that it’s painful and unpleasant and that when I marry I’ll just have to lie there and take it.” Myrcella said, recalling the strange and frankly, somewhat terrifying conversation she’d had with her mother not long before leaving King’s Landing. Dacey sat in silence for a moment then sighed.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this. But she wasn’t exactly wrong.” Dacey paused, “What brought this on Myrcella?” Dacey already had a feeling she knew exactly why.

“Robb, I, he’s… we…” Myrcella sighed and buried her face in her hands. “It’s hard to describe. I’ve never felt like this about a person before. I want him, that’s never happened before. When I was a hostage I fancied him a bit at the beginning. But this is something different. Then, last week we got intimate, but before anything actually happened he accidentally bit me and, well, he panicked. Now he’s back to treating me like he used too and it hurts and I’m so confused.”

“You’re falling in love with him.” Dacey said bluntly, “And you don’t know if he feels the same way about you. And you think that learning more about sex will somehow help you figure that out.” Myrcella slouched further. When Dacey put it that way,

“If what I’m feeling is just lust-“

“It’s not.” Dacey cut her off. “You’re in love with Robb and he’s in love with you. A person would have to be blind to miss it.” Myrcella sat back up.

“Really?” Dacey nodded.

“He’s always had a soft spot for you, it’s only grown since we’ve been here. Maybe that’s why the Wolf won’t hurt you.” Myrcella reached up and touched her neck, the tips of her fingers running over the small scab that had formed where Robb’s sharp canine had cut her.

“Maybe that’s why he panicked when he cut me.” She said softly. Dacey shrugged and took another drink from her water skin.

“Maybe.” She stated. “Or maybe he’s just worried about dishonoring you. He is a Stark after all. And the fact that his last lover was brutally murdered at a wedding may mean he fears being intimate again because he may lose you to some horrible violent thing like he lost Talisa.”

“Right…” Myrcella trailed off, Dacey had a point but she really did not want to think about Robb’s former betrothed right now “Seriously though, I know you’re not a maid. You’ve had lovers, how do I go about seducing Robb?” Dacey sighed.

“Well the first thing you need to know is that when it comes down to it, men think with their cocks, not their brains.” Myrcella leaned forward eager to learn what Dacey knew. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oy.... This was hard to write. Guys. I'm not good at angst. Also life has just been kinda exhausting lately.


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